


The calm before the storm

by orphan_account



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Depression, Developing Relationship, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Massage, Post Episode: s04e06 Yverdon-les-Bains, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after declining the job offer at Swiss Air for the man he loves, Martin is broke, in fear of becoming homeless and convinced that his feelings for his First Officer will never be returned. In his desperation he sees only one escape: Ending it all before he has to admit his failure. He writes a suicide note in which he explains his reasons, but Douglas finds it before it's finished and panics. He wants to help his friend by inviting him in his home, but there are some developments even the Sky God Douglas Richardson couldn't foresee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to fill my own [prompt](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=12497377#cmt12497377%20) at Dreamwidth.
> 
> Please note that I am german and this is my first attempt to write in english and not every chapter is beta'd, so if you find any mistakes please let me know. Oh and I will adjust the rating to explicit for later chapters, but I will warn you once it becomes relevant ;-) Thousand thanks to whitchry9 and Mywiel for their support.
> 
> P.S.: I am not an expert in health issues like eating disorders or depression. I will only mention them briefly in a few chapters, but still, this is not the opinion of a professional person, just my experiences and the result of a quick research. If you have any issues with how I write about it, please let me know so I can change it. Thank you.

It was one of those days. Douglas entered the flight deck and knew at the first look at his captain that the flight would not be an easy one. Over the past six months Martin turned more and more away from him up to a point where it felt like a crime to even suggest any word games or bets. He never tried any more, which even made Arthur suspicious. How pathetic and childish was that? Not talking till even their steward noticed something was wrong. He tried, he really tried, but he wasn’t even sure what was nagging at the back of the Captain’s mind and so there was no way to fix things.

It all went downhill from the day Martin told them that he did not get the job at Swiss Air. Douglas could have understood if Martin would have been feeling down for a couple of days, he tried his best to cheer him up with his usual jokes and how they are stuck at MJN Air together, but that even made the Captain’s mood worse. Did he hate it so much to be stuck at MJN Air? There was a time when Martin enjoyed flying, no matter where. He even accepted the job without any form of payment, so he had to be happy at one point to just get the opportunity to fly. Why did that change? Was it his fault? Did he say something horribly wrong? He just didn’t know any more, everything he ever said began to blur and he could not pick one moment out which would explain this icy atmosphere.

Sitting in his Captain’s seat and staring out of the window Martin looked just… tired. Exhausted. He seemed so small and vulnerable that it broke Douglas’ heart. It seemed like that was the standard look of the captain nowadays and Douglas wanted nothing more than to change that. He wondered how often he slept, if the ate properly, how his Man with a Van business was doing and if there was any way to help the man. But if he asked anything about it, Martin would just turn away with a frown on his face and ignore him. He even stopped to fight over the cheese tray and let Martin have most of it with the excuse of not being hungry himself. It was his only chance to make sure that Martin ate.

“Morning, Captain,” Douglas murmured when he noticed his staring and quickly pushed his overnight bag in the cabinet before he slumped into his own seat. They weren’t flying that far, just delivering some cargo to Zurich, but they had to stay the night.

“Morning,” Martin replied and got up quickly to leave the flight deck. So he didn’t even want to be in the same space today. Wonderful. That looked promising. Douglas sighed and leaned back in his seat when he heard the ringing of a phone from the cabinet. That was weird. It definitely wasn’t his ringtone and Martin never left his phone on whilst he flew. Maybe it was something important? Maybe Martin waited for a call from somebody? Without thinking too much about it, Douglas opened the cabinet and grabbed Martin’s overnight bag to retrieve the phone. But just as he peaked a look inside the bag, he stopped dead in his movements and took a deep breath. There was a letter in Martin’s bag. Addressed to him. What had Martin to say that he could not tell him face to face? He thought about putting the bag back in its place, the phone had stopped ringing nevertheless. There was no reason for him to go through Martin’s bag any longer. But he just couldn’t. Maybe the letter would explain what was wrong with Martin, why he acted so strange and how Douglas could fix it.

Pushing his conscience aside, he reached for the letter and sat back down in his seat. Martin left and if he was lucky he could read the letter before he returned. Martin would never know. He unfolded the paper and began to read.

_“09/14/2013_

_Dear Douglas,_

_I don’t really know why I am writing this to you. It feels ridiculous since I know that we grew apart over the last months and you probably aren’t even interested in anything I have to say to you anymore. Nevertheless I have to write someone to get a few things out of my head before... Well, Douglas, this is my note. My suicide note. I want you to read it and understand why I did what I did and tell the people I hold dear that it’s no one’s fault but mine. I don’t want anybody to feel bad about my death, it’s not worth the trouble. Could you please tell my family that I loved them even if we had our problems and that there was nothing they could have done to prevent this. And tell Arthur to stay brilliant. And Carolyn that I am sorry she has to find a new pilot, but the business is doing great so I think she might be even able to find someone and pay him. I guess you’re going to be the new Captain, so congratulations, Captain Richardson! Now you got what you always wanted. You are the better pilot, so I guess it’s only fair to pass the hat on to you._

_The reason why I am doing this is simple. I just can’t carry on. I tried, I tried so hard for the past years. I always worked so hard to achieve my dream, to become a pilot. I spent my whole life preparing for this, I’ve learned when all the other people went to parties, I’ve learned when other people found friends and lovers and I never participated in any of those things. It was my choice, but I start to think that it was the wrong one. I’m not a good pilot. I wasted years to be able to do something I’m not good at. That’s not commitment, that’s insane. I took a job I’m not getting paid for just to do what I loved the most. But the moment I realised that even flying wasn’t making me happy any more, I knew that I have made the wrong decision. Wrong. A failure. Just like all the people around me always said, I just never thought that they were right. You know how hard it is to do two jobs? To fly for hours and then move some furniture from one perfect flat to another perfect flat and then come home to my attic room and realise that I will never have such a life?_

_I could have had such a life six months ago. You remember when I told you that I did not get the job at Swiss Air? Well, I lied. I did get the job, the offered me to start working in June but I could not leave. I declined. I declined the only chance I ever had to do what I love AND to live from that. And I don’t even know why. I thought about leaving MJN Air behind and it broke my heart. As weird as it seems, you’re more of a family to me than my actual family. I can’t believe that I am now leaving nonetheless. Douglas, I’m sorry. Tell everyone that I am so sorry. And please keep in mind that I”_

Douglas turned the papers in his hand, but that was it. The letter stopped mid-sentence. What should he keep in mind? Panic stared to rise in him and he quickly shoved the letter back in its place before he ran out of the flight deck to find Martin. He had to say something. Something. Anything at all to prevent this from happening. Another rush of panic clenched at his heart and he fought to not let it show when he bumped into Carolyn.

“Douglas, what are you doing?” she wanted to know, surprised when she noticed Douglas state.

“I’m... Where is Martin?” Douglas asked quickly.

“He’s doing the walk around. You know it takes him ages, no need to be angry,” Carolyn replied before she took another suspicious look at Douglas. “Why, what has he done now?”

“Nothing. I just need to clarify something about the fight plan,” lied Douglas smoothly and even managed to smile his most charming smile before he quickly got out of the plane without looking back. He did not have the time to deal with Carolyn now. He knew that she noticed the changes in Martin, too. They sometimes talked about it, tried to find a solution to the problem, but she did not have a clue how serious things were. And even if she knew, she could not help him now. He could. He knew he could. He just did not know where to start.

When Douglas rushed down the stairs he saw Martin standing at the back of the plane. He looked normal. Still tired and famished, but not like a man who was about to end his life. But then again, maybe he underestimated Martin’s acting abilities, he did have six months to perfect them. As he made his way towards the Captain his heart sunk and he suddenly realised that he had no idea what to say to him whatsoever. His brain was empty. In another situation Douglas might have laughed about it, he always knew what to say, he always had a sarcastic remark on the tip of the tongue and he never just lost it like that. Martin saw him coming towards him and quirked an eyebrow.

“Is something wrong?” he asked with a neutral tone.

“No, you just did not tell me where you went and I thought I do the walk around while you’re gone,” Douglas told him and tried a reassuring smile, which failed miserably.

“Oh sorry, seems like I forgot about it”, Martin murmured and continued to inspect the plane. It was unbelievable. He seemed so calm and collected and that was definitely new. Maybe this was the famous calm before the storm. Or maybe the letter was just old and he was not at risk any more. But no, the letter said 09/14. In fact, that was the day after tomorrow. So he dated the letter on the day he wanted to end his life and not on the day he wrote it. Fear settled in Douglas’s guts, everything was already planned. He even set a date for his death.

“I better go back inside then,” he muttered and turned around before Martin grew suspicious. He could not tell him like that that he found his letter. Martin would hate him and build even more walls around him and that was something Douglas definitely did not need at the moment. He had to reach Martin, he had to tell him that he had friends, he had him. He could help him, no matter what.

*

The flight was silent. Everything was silent. Nobody talked, not even Arthur came in to ask for games or to bring them coffee. The air was calm, too, no storm, hardly any clouds and it was hateful. Douglas felt like his insides were being turned over and he just wanted to vomit, but everything else was calm. Hateful. He glanced at Martin every two minutes to see his facade crumble but he did not even notice Douglas’ looks. He was concentrated on flying and staring out of the window. What was he thinking about? How to end his live? Douglas knew Martin, if he already set a date, he might have already planned how to do it, too. He had to do something. If Martin would not get the chance to finish the letter, he might also not finish... well, his life.

“Captain, I’m going to the loo,” he said and quickly left before Martin had the chance to say something. He needed Carolyn. She could keep him occupied for the evening. He found her sitting on one of the passenger seats reading a magazine and threw himself in the neighbouring seat.

“I need your help,” he whispered. He did not want to catch Arthur’s interest and worry him.

“Well, I’m not the charity,” Carolyn replied and thumbed to the next site.

“Please, Carolyn,” Douglas begged and finally got her attention. He never begged, but this was the least of his problems at the moment.

“Okay, go on and change my mind,” she said and finally put her magazine down.

“I need you to announce a company dinner tonight. And I need you to make it long so that Martin will be exhausted and maybe a little bit drunk by the end of the evening. Can you do that?” he asked, risking a look at Arthur, but he was still watching some movie and was unaware of his surroundings.

“Why do you think it a good idea to get one of my pilots drunk?” Carolyn asked back and narrowed her eyes. Something was wrong, she just couldn’t put her finger on it yet.

“I can’t tell you yet. I just need Martin to be so exhausted that he will fall into his bed and not move a single finger for the night. I’m asking you as your friend here, not as your pilot,” Douglas replied and tried to look as sincere as possible. He could not suggest having dinner with Martin, he would decline and grew suspicious. He needed help.

“Okay, I have no idea what is going on here. For the past months you two behave like strangers and now you’re coming to me for help. This is probably none of my business anyway, but I will grant you this wish. As a “friend” once told me: It’s always good to have someone owing you a colossal favour. And now go back.”

Douglas let out a breath he did not even notice he was holding in. That was a good start. Keep Martin occupied in Zurich and then tomorrow back in Fitton he would talk to him. Maybe in a surrounding he felt safe, his flat or a local pub he often visits. He nodded a quick “Thank you” and made his way back to the front, a little calmer himself and with a plan in mind. 


	2. Chapter 2

The dinner was a disaster. It was the first MJN Air dinner with all four of them in a very long time, but they were never this awkward. Even Arthur caught on the mood and rather spent his time shovelling food inside himself than to make his usual jokes. Douglas would have given his right arm for Arthur’s jokes, his clumsy attempt at conversation and his usual enthusiasm about the smallest things possible. But his luck seemed to have left him this evening. Martin rarely spoke and whenever he felt like he needed to participate in a conversation, he quickly took a big gulp from his wine to avoid it. At least that went according to plan. Martin was just one of those people who fell into bed like a dead man after three glasses of wine. There was no way he could finish his note tonight.

Douglas wanted to say anything to lighten the mood, to make Martin see that MJN Air was his family and cared for him. But the right words just did not come to his mind. He hated it, he usually was so good with words and since he found the letter he just lost it. How pathetic was that?

“So... Any plans for the free week?” Douglas asked everybody around in hope of Arthur telling a long and weird story to take their minds off the depressing mood.

“Oh yes, I’m going to the zoo with mum on Thursday. I hope there will be polar bears. You guys know how much I love polar bears. They’re just...”

“Brilliant,” murmured Martin and smiled weakly at Arthur.

“Yes, right, they are. And maybe we will see some otters, too. You remember the time we wondered how many otters fit into GERTI? I miss those times, maybe we could go on another road trip some day. Just us. What do you think?” Arthur asked hopefully and smiled at Douglas.

“Arthur, we’re going on trips all the time. We’re flying an aeroplane”, Martin replied and took another big gulp from his wine glass.

“We do, Sir, but I have to agree with Arthur here. I would love to go on a road trip, where do you want to go, Arthur?” said Douglas and flashed a quick smile to Martin. He needed something planned, something to look forward to.

“Liverpool!” Arthur exclaimed.

“Arthur, why would you want to go to Liverpool?” Carolyn asked with a frown.

“And please don’t tell me because it sounds like a pool of livers!” Douglas chimed in before Arthur could answer her question.

“No. No, nothing like that. I just... I just like it there. A girl from the pony club showed me some pictures and it looks really brilliant!”, cheered Arthur and began to rub his hands together as if he was already starting to plan the trip in his head.

“Arthur, I think you are the only one who thinks that Liverpool is brilliant. But fine, we can make a trip to Liverpool. Are you in, Captain? I think we may be in need of your van for the authentic road trip feeling”, said Douglas and for a millisecond he thought he saw Martin’s carefully obtained mask slip. Did he say something wrong?

“Yeah... The... The van... I mean, I may have to see a mechanic first, but sure. We can do that”, agreed Martin and smiled at Arthur, but even he saw that the smile came nowhere near Martin’s eyes.

“Is everything alright with the van, Skip?”, he asked carefully.

“Yeah it’s fine. Fine. Really, fine. It just needs to be seen over. That’s all. It’s fine”, explained Martin, averted his eyes and fiddled with his wine glass.

“Great! So I may be free on Saturday...”, Arthur started to plan and continued to talk for the next ten minutes. During this time Douglas risked a few glances in Martin’s direction, but the only thing he saw was a man staring into his wine glass like it held the answer to all the questions of humanity. He knew that look. He used to look at his wine glass the same ten years ago, but gladly this time was long gone. He just hoped that Martin would not go down the same road to deal with his problems. When Douglas finally looked back at Arthur, he saw Carolyn eyeing him suspiciously. He gave too much away with his staring, there was no way he could keep this secret from her forever. Carolyn would never admit it, but Douglas was sure that she secretly cared for Martin. He joined MJN not much older than Arthur and although they used to mock him, she developed motherly feelings towards him over the years. Five years. How could someone not grew attached to Martin after five years? He smiled reassuringly at her and planned to share his secret with her soon.  Maybe she knew what to say or to do.

Two hours and four glasses of wine for Martin later, they headed back to their rooms. It was 11pm, not as late as Douglas hoped, but Martin was slightly drunk and likely to just go to sleep immediately. Carolyn and Arthur disappeared into their rooms after a quick “good night” and left their two pilots alone.

“I’m going to sleep like a log tonight,” said Douglas and led Martin to his room.

“Mhm? Oh yeah, me too, I’m exhausted,” replied Martin and yawned to verify his comment.

“Good. I mean, good night then,” smiled Douglas and waited till Martin opened his door and disappeared with a murmured “Good night, Douglas”. With a last lingering look on Martin’s door and a tired sigh he pulled out his own key card and went into his own room. There was no way he could sleep tonight. There were too many thoughts clouding his brain and too much to plan to keep Martin going.

*

“Good morning, chaps, I brought your coffee,” chirped Arthur the next morning when he entered the flight deck.

“Morning, Arthur,” replied Douglas, whilst Martin only murmured his greeting. Douglas noted with a hint of pride that Martin seemed slightly hung over. So he definitely wasn’t up to do much yesterday.  He took a gulp of his coffee and saw how Martin drank half the coffee in one go. Definitely hung over, then.

The flight itself was uneventful, although Douglas took over most of the flying due to Martin’s headache. They still didn’t play any word games, but Douglas was confident enough to think that one day, one day soon, they would be back to their usual selves and Martin would be happy again. He had to believe in it, it was the only thing which kept him going. After the post-landing checks Martin smiled gratefully and before Douglas had the chance to quickly leave the flight deck like always, Martin began to stammer.

“Douglas... Well... Thank you. You know, not just for taking over the flight today... But for everything. I know we didn’t have as much fun the last months like we used to have and well, I’m sorry. You’re a great pilot and a good man and... Gosh, I’m rambling. Sorry. I just wanted to thank you...”

“Martin...” Douglas began but got cut off as Martin stood up and made his way out of the flight deck, before he stopped and took a look back to say:

“You don’t have to say something. Just keep that in mind, will you? I’m going to do the paper work, you go home and enjoy your free week. Goodbye.”

Douglas froze on his seat as the door snapped close. That definitely wasn’t a normal goodbye. That was a goodbye for real. A goodbye forever. Martin thought he would never see Douglas again. He could not leave him alone tonight, or tomorrow, or ever again. He just needed to be with him, to protect him, tell him how much he cared. And how it would break his heart if Martin would go through with his suicide. Douglas slowly rose from his seat and went to his car to wait for Martin. Totally lost in thought, he did not realise that Martin’s van was nowhere on the parking space.

An hour later he wondered how long the paperwork took. That was unusual. He never really cared for the paperwork, but even Martin would not take this long to finish it, would he? With a shaking hand he opened the door to the Portacabin, but inside was only Carolyn, who was hunched over the calendar to organise the upcoming flights.

“Douglas, what are you still doing here?” she asked disbelievingly. Douglas was always the first to leave the airfield.

“I’m waiting for Martin. Is he somewhere around?” explained Douglas and held his breath. Another wave of fear ripped on his heart when he saw Carolyn’s confused look.

“Martin? No, he left right after the landing. He said he was tired and would come in tomorrow to fill the paperwork and I didn’t see a problem with that. I’m lucky that at least one of my pilots takes his time to actually DO the paperwork, you know?” she snarled and then sighed. She really didn’t want to participate in whatever was going on between Douglas and Martin, but the atmosphere grew more and more icy and she feared that one of them might resign someday. Probably Martin. And she really did not like that thought. “Okay, look Douglas, I’m not in a position to interfere with your little fight or whatever is going on with you two, but please tell me you can fix it and we can go back to normal!”

“I’m not sure any more,” whispered Douglas and fell into the opposite chair.

“What do you mean? Just apologize!” Carolyn suggested and finally closed her calendar. This seemed too important.

“We’re not having a fight... I found something. Carolyn, it’s really not my secret to tell, but I’m worried about Martin. Not worried, I’m terrified. I... Can’t you just start to pay him for his work?” Douglas suddenly asked and tried not to sound too desperate. Maybe this was a start.

“Douglas, you know that the business is not doing absolutely great, I can’t just throw my money around. I told Martin to look for other jobs, jobs he gets a salary for, but after Swiss Air he didn’t even try any more. I thought he was doing okay,” Carolyn answered and took a worried look at Douglas. “Is he not?”

“No, he’s not doing okay. Have you looked at him recently? He needs money. He needs it. Please, Carolyn, we both know that the business is not perfect but we definitely make more money than five years ago. And if you really can’t afford it, if you look through your papers and see that there is not one pound you can spare on Martin, then give him at least half of my salary. I don’t care any more. Just pay the man!” Douglas demanded and finally Carolyn slumped in her chair and let out another deep sigh.

“Alright. Alright. I see what I can do. But be honest with me here, how serious is this?” Carolyn asked and Douglas saw that usually well hidden fear for their captain creep into her eyes.

“He wrote a suicide note. I found it by chance in his bag and I don’t know what to do. It’s not finished, at least it wasn’t finished yesterday and it’s dated on tomorrow. That’s why I asked to take him to dinner, I wanted him to eat, to drink, to be too exhausted to move a single finger. He should not get the opportunity to finish this letter, because I fear once he finishes it... Well... Carolyn, I just wanted to keep him occupied tonight but now he is gone and I...” Douglas explained and stopped mid-sentence. He just didn’t know what to say any more.

“Douglas, go. Go and save him”, Carolyn urged as she smiled genuinely at Douglas. Douglas nodded and left the Portacabin without looking back, so he did not see Carolyn’s face twist into a worried frown as she manically started to go through her papers to find a solution to the salary problem. It was the least she could do.

*

Martin arrived at his place 15 minutes after he left the aeroplane. He just spent his last money on the taxi fare, but his van just wouldn’t start this morning and he didn’t need his money any more anyway. He looked at his little attic room, at the few boxes of personal belongings on the floor and the last remains of furniture. He sold most of it over the last months, food was just more important than a TV, a desk or even a bed. His mattress on the floor was enough. Enough for a failure like him. He sighed and sat down on the floor between the boxes. Two days. Two days till he had to leave the room. He just could not pay the rent any more. The van broke down far too often and the word spread fast. Who would hire a removal company, which could not guarantee that the furniture actually arrived at the destination?  He tried to go without food to pay the rent, but after he fainted two times he knew that this was not a clever decision. Especially not for a pilot, a captain. He needed food. He promised himself not to become homeless. He always said he would rather die than being homeless. And now the time had come. Now the decision was his to make.

He picked the unfinished letter out of his overnight bag and reread it. It was good, not accusing and hopefully no one would feel too bad. He took out his pen and started to write the missing sentences. He knew exactly what he wanted to tell Douglas. Martin tried his best not to cry, he didn’t want any tear spots on his letter. He wanted to be strong, just this one more time. He didn’t need to be strong after that any more. He could let go. He added:

“ _And please keep in mind that I never wanted it to end like that. There are so many things left unsaid, maybe I should have said them, but maybe they would have made things worse. I don’t know. That’s why I’m writing them now, to get them off my chest. Douglas, I love you. I have for quite some time now and I was too much of a coward to tell you. But there is nothing you could have done about it, right? I know what you don’t love me back and that’s fine, it really is fine. I wish you the best of luck for your life and as a captain and I hope that you won’t hate me now._

_Goodbye,_

_Martin.”_

Once he finished his letter he neatly folded it into the envelope and put it back in his bag. He would find a better place for it later. His thoughts began to wander to whom would find him. Probably Douglas when he would come to get him for the next flight. Or his landlord when he wouldn’t open the door to give him the keys. Or maybe even one of the students, but then again they never came to look for him. He hoped it would be the landlord, Douglas should not see him like that. Douglas... Martin sighed again and laid back on his mattress with a little smile on his face. Douglas was the reason he stayed alive this long, but he also was the reason why it had to end now. He stayed for Douglas in Fitton. He could have moved to Switzerland, he could fly with an actual airline and make money. But he stayed because his heart told him to. It was a stupid decision, why did he stay for someone who would never reciprocate his feelings? He loved the man. He was so in love. He recognised it first when he thought about leaving MJN Air behind, but the more he thought about it, the more situations came into his mind. He probably loved him for a much longer time without realising it. He had to laugh at his own foolishness. Being in love and not even seeing it. He had no idea how to cope with that any more. He didn’t want Douglas to notice but the more he distanced himself from him, the more suspicious he got. He began to ask, he began to look at him with a slightly worried face and Martin was sick of hiding. It would all end soon.

*

Meanwhile Douglas rushed through Fitton’s streets and hoped that he would not be too late. He never was one to beg or pray, but in this moment all he could say was “Please, Please, don’t let him be dead. Let him be alive. Don’t let me come too late. Please!” Adrenaline pumped through his body and he sped up a little more. After a few minutes he finally arrived at the house Martin lived in and knocked rapidly on the front door. A girl not older than 20 opened the door and eyed him doubtful.

“Yes?” she asked at last and opened the door a little wider.

“Hi, I’m looking for Martin,” said Douglas and hoped that she would just go out of the way.

“I think he came home a few minutes ago. You better look upstairs in his room,” suggested the girl and stepped away to let Douglas in. He never was inside of Martin’s room, he only saw the house from the outside when he would catch him to go to the airfield. With still shaking fingers he took the stairs to the attic and paused to take a few deep breaths before he knocked on the door to Martin’s room. 


	3. Chapter 3

After Douglas knocked he heard some shuffling from the other side of the door. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Martin was alive and in his room. Douglas sighed relieved and tried to hide the fear in his face. A few seconds later the door opened and Martin looked startled.

“Douglas! What are you doing here?” he asked ashamed and picked at his clothes. He changed from his uniform into more casual clothes, an old, worn out jeans and a plain white T-Shirt and he suddenly realised how pathetic he must look. But he didn’t want to ruin his uniform. He would never wear it again.

“I came to... God, Martin, what happened to your room?” Douglas pushed the door wide open to take a look at the battlefield. Where were his things? Why was everything packed in boxes?

“I’m... I’m moving,” replied Martin and looked everywhere but in Douglas’ eyes. He was a bad liar, he knew that, but he just could not tell the truth here. There was only so much humiliation Martin could stand now, and if Douglas knew about the fact that he would be homeless soon he would give him the perfect ammunition.

“Really? Where?” asked Douglas and tried to catch Martin’s eyes. Of course he was not moving. Why would he move if he planned to kill himself? That did not make any sense. He needed Martin to be honest with him.

“Well, you know... Just a little flat a few streets away... It’s... It’s not a big deal, really.”

“I take it that the Man with a Van business is doing great? Or how can you afford a new flat?” pushed Douglas and hoped that Martin’s protective wall would just crumble.

“Yeah, it’s doing fine... Fine. Absolutely fine. I managed to put some money aside and now... now I’m moving”, said Martin and sat heavily down on one of the boxes.

“And your furniture is already in the new flat?”

“Yeah, I brought them there last week. I just came to pack the last things...”

“You know what, Martin? I’m in a generous mood today, I help you to bring your last things over.”

“No Douglas, that is really not necessary. It’s not that much anyway. I’m doing it myself tomorrow.”

“Then I come by tomorrow to help you then.” Martin finally managed to look into Douglas’ eyes and took a deep breath before he answered:

“Douglas... No... Really there is no need. I’m used to moving stuff, I don’t need your help.”

“Then give me at least your new address so that I know where to pick you up next week.”

“Yeah... Yeah... I’ll send you a text with the new address, all right?”

“Martin... Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?” asked Douglas at last and hoped that he did not push too far.

“What do you want me to say?” Martin hide his face in his hands. This was probably the most embarrassing moment of his life and he just wanted to escape. Douglas slowly made his way through the few boxes to Martin, sat heavily down on the box opposite and took his Captain’s wrists in his hands to lower his hands back again. Martin needed to see how sincere he was. How worried.

“The truth, Martin.”

“The... The truth... You want to know the truth? Fine... I... I don’t have a new flat. I was not able to pay the rent and now I have to leave in two days and I have nowhere to stay. I’m going to be homeless, Douglas. I sold all my furniture because I just needed the bloody money! Do you know how that makes me feel? Like the biggest failure on this planet! My... my van broke down too often. I just... I needed to eat! You have no idea how it is to decide between rent and food, you get actually paid to do your job. I tried to go without it, I really tried... but... I just couldn’t. Do you feel better now that you know my little secret? Is that what you wanted?” Martin yelled, and slumped his shoulders more, exhausted.

“Yes. That is exactly what I wanted to know. Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“I did! I asked Carolyn to pay me for the last five years. She just told me she did not have the money and there was nothing else I could do!”

“Nothing? You could have asked me.”

“Why would I ask you?”

“I’m your friend.”

Martin took a careful look at Douglas to see if he was being honest. He couldn’t be. No one ever said something like that to him. He did not know what to say to that. What would people normally say? Thank you?

“Martin, pack a bag and come to my flat with me. You can’t stay here, you don’t even have a bed. You need to sleep and eat. I promise we’ll find a solution. Just come with me tonight.”

Martin freed his wrists from Douglas’ grip and nodded once. One night. He could carry on for just one night more. He slowly made his way to his overnight bag and put a few more clothing items in it before he shouldered it and looked in Douglas’ eyes. Without speaking another word, Martin headed for the door and left his attic without looking back.

*

“I haven’t even seen your new flat yet”, commented Martin as they entered Douglas’ hall after a short and silent ride in his Lexus.

“Well, after the divorce the house just seemed enormous. I thought something smaller would be more than sufficient for a bachelor. It’s really nothing special. You can stay in the second bedroom just down the hall. I hoped that it would be occupied by my daughter every now and then but she doesn’t really visit that often so... Make yourself at home!”

“Do you miss her?” Martin asked quietly.

“Of course I do. But I just missed too many big events, birthdays, Christmases, school plays, I was never there. So she doesn’t really like me at the moment and I can’t blame her. But we’re not here to talk about my problems. Are you hungry? I could make dinner,” suggested Douglas and prayed that Martin would just change the topic. Of course Douglas had his own problems, but they were not as pressing as Martin’s. He could win his daughter back again, he knew that. She was at a difficult age, just turned 12 and slowly separating herself from her parents. He knew that this was about to happen at one point, he had to let her go and make her own decisions, but it was still hard. She was still his little girl.

“Dinner would be great!” Martin said, interrupting Douglas’ train of thoughts, as he let his bag fall on the floor “Do you need help?”

“No, Sir. You just get settled in your room and I prepare everything here.”

“Don’t call me Sir. I’m...” _not a pilot any more soon. Not your captain soon. Not worth being called that._ “On my spare time.”

“As you wish, Captain,” replied Douglas smoothly and saw out of the corner of his eyes Martin’s frown, before he rolled his eyes and made his way to the guest room.

Douglas took a deep breath and took the ingredients for a chicken curry out of his fridge. He knew that Martin liked Indian food, there was a time when they actually went to dinner together if they had to stay over at some random hotel for the night after a flight. There were better times, times where they laughed and enjoyed themselves. Times were Douglas could tease Martin and Martin would laugh or flash him one of his unique little smiles. Oh, how he missed those times. But there was no sense to dwell on the past, he had to look forward and do his best to make Martin smile again. He would give anything for it.

Forty minutes later the curry was ready and Douglas called for Martin before he put two plates on his small kitchen table.

“That smells lovely,” commented Martin once he entered.

“You know I can cook,” replied Douglas and filled Martin’s glass with wine.

“Yeah... I know... There is nothing Douglas Richardson can’t do.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that any more. Turns out even I can’t fix everything,” murmured Douglas and sat down. Martin looked at him inquiring but didn’t press the matter any further. He was a guest in this flat and he knew that Douglas wasn’t the most open person when it came down to feelings. He picked at his food instead and felt slightly nauseous. He hadn’t seen that much food on his plate for months. How could he possibly eat that much? How could he not without Douglas noticing? He suddenly lost his appetite and just wanted to escape. He didn’t belong here, in a decent flat with a plate full of food. This was Douglas’ food, he should eat it. Douglas paid for it and Martin did nothing than to take. Always take.

“Don’t you like it?” Douglas asked cautiously after a few minutes.

“I... Douglas, it’s really good, I’m just not that hungry.”

“You look like you haven’t eaten anything this week except for the baked potato you had yesterday in Zurich!”

“I haven’t. I mean I’ve eaten some toast a few days ago. I’m good. I can go on for a bit.”

“You starve yourself to death!”

“I know my limits!”, exclaimed Martin and threw his hands in the air. He just didn’t want to eat. Why did Douglas make such a fuss about it?

“You know that this sounds like self-harm?”

“What? What? God no... No way. It’s not like that. It’s not like doing something like... I don’t know... It’s not dangerous, it’s not painful, it’s perfectly normal.”

“There is nothing normal with starving yourself till you just HAVE to eat in order to survive! Or to stay awake for days till you’re so exhausted that you just can’t fight it any more. I have seen how tired you looked the last six months, you don’t fool me!”

“Well thank you to always know best. You know what? Fine. I’ll eat!” Martin defended himself and began to shovel forkfuls of food into his mouth. He did his best not to vomit. His stomach was just so full. There was no room; he wasn’t used to this. He was aware that his fullness was not only a response of his body to the long forbidden food inside his stomach, it was also in his head. He didn’t want to eat that much. He didn’t deserve it. “Happy now?”

“Martin... I don’t want to patronize you!”

“Then don’t. I’m going to bed, since I obviously need my precious sleep. Excuse me,” Martin said abruptly, pushing himself away from the table and stalking off.

Douglas heard the door to his guest room slam shut and put his head in his hands. This definitely didn’t go according to plan. He just wanted to see Martin happy, to give him the opportunity to eat and sleep properly and now he screwed everything up. He didn’t lie when he told Martin that he found his own limits. That he could not fix everything magically. He didn’t want Martin hurt and yet it seemed like he was making everything worse. Should he call someone for help? Someone professional? Maybe this was the best he could do, and it was not enough. It would never be enough. But he was pretty sure that Martin would freak out if he did that now, behind his back. Why didn’t Martin just trust him? Did he really think that little of him?

He wasn’t hungry any more himself. With a deep sigh he put the leftovers in the fridge and hoped that Martin would eat something at one point. Maybe during the night. Maybe he would be more comfortable to eat alone without someone watching and measuring him. Douglas slowly went to his room and got ready for the night, but he left his own door open a few centimetres, just in case, before he fell into a dreamless sleep. After all, it had been a long day.

*

Douglas woke up groaning. It was far too early and the tension in his back was killing him, but he just couldn’t settle down any more. A quick look at his alarm clock told him that it was only 5:30am. He sat up and looked at his still dark room. It seemed so empty and cold. There was nothing he would rather do than get up and go to Martin’s room, to look after him, make sure he slept. But that would just lead to another fight and he was sick of fighting.

Martin was right. He didn’t need a babysitter. He was 35 years old, of course he _could_ take care of himself. He just didn’t. He didn’t care about his health and body any more. Without knowing how to continue with his plan to save Martin, Douglas got up and headed for the shower. He turned it as hot as he could stand it and enjoyed those few minutes of bliss. He felt his muscles loosen up and moved his shoulders in slow circles to ensure that every tension swept out of his body.

After a few minutes he settled himself in his living room and tried to hear if Martin was already up. Once he was sure that no sound was coming from his room, he grabbed his newspaper and began to read. He had to fixate on something else. Just for a short time.

The door to Douglas’ guest room opened one hour later and Martin emerged from it. He still looked unhealthy, but at least not that exhausted any more. Maybe he slept well. Douglas didn’t dare to ask, afraid that it would seem patronizing again.

“Good Morning, Martin,” said Douglas and put the newspaper aside. He was still on page three. He didn’t even notice how lost in thought he must have been.

“Morning. Can I use the shower?” murmured Martin sleepily and Douglas couldn’t help but smile. Martin looked… somehow adorable. Did he just call his captain adorable? Maybe it was the wrong word, but Douglas couldn’t think of a better one. He still had the imprint of his pillow on the side of his face and his curly hair stuck up in all kind of directions.

“Sure. I have already laid a towel out for you. Take your time, I’m going to make breakfast for us”, replied Douglas quickly before his staring got too apparent.

“Thanks,” murmured Martin as he left for the bathroom. Douglas heard the taps being turned on and imagined Martin getting into the shower. He suddenly realised how inappropriate that thought was. Martin was his co-pilot, for god’s sake. His friend. It wouldn’t help if he now began to imagine what Martin looked like naked. He told himself that this train of thought was born because of the worry for his health. Nothing more and nothing less.

Without thinking about it any longer, he got up and went to his little kitchen. Breakfast. That was what he wanted to do, not thinking about Martin in the shower. Breakfast was safe. He concentrated on preparing toast and putting all kind of toppings on the table. He poured two glasses of orange juice, Martin obviously needed vitamin C more than caffeine. Just as he finished everything Martin came out of the bathroom in new clothes and still damp hair. Douglas forced himself not to think the word “adorable” again. This was getting ridiculous.

“Toast?” he asked instead and saw Martin nod before he sat down on the table. They didn’t talk much over breakfast, both men lost in thought.

Martin actually ate two slices of toast in the end. Douglas was not sure if he did it because he was hungry or if he did it to please Douglas. Maybe Martin was sick of fighting, too.

“Well... Douglas, thank you for breakfast and everything, but I think I better leave now and... sort the rest of my things out in the flat.”

“You’re not going to do that alone, Martin.”

“I’m not a child. Of course I can do that alone. I know you wanted to help and I’m very grateful but now I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave!”

“Why not?”

“Because I know what you’re going to do once you left!” yelled Douglas and immediately regretted his thoughtlessness. Now it was in the open. Now Martin would know that Douglas betrayed his trust and read his suicide note.

“What? What... What?”

“Look Martin, I’m sorry, but I read the letter in your bag. I know how you feel.”

“What? When?”

“Before we flew to Zurich,” replied Douglas and Martin explode.

“So you read that later two days ago and didn’t think that it would be fair to tell me? You knew all along and I thought you just cared for me as a colleague and friend, but clearly it was just some sort of misplaced guilt. Do you feel guilty because the letter was addressed to you? Did you think people would hold you responsible? This is just... sick!” he spat.

“No Martin, nothing like that. I just didn’t want you to leave us!” defended Douglas himself and regretted his raised voice instantly. Martin’s shoulders slumped down and he looked unbelievably small. This wasn’t his captain, the man he knew for five years, this was a man who lost his will to continue.

“Yeah... sure...” whispered Martin before he grabbed his coat and rushed out of the door.

“SHIT!” cried Douglas again and kicked his door frame in frustration. Weirdly his foot didn’t nearly hurt as much as his heart. That was new. 


	4. Chapter 4

Martin didn’t know where he was going. He left the flat in a hurry and just ran, ran as fast as his feet would take him till he just could not breathe any more. He was so angry, so disappointed in Douglas. He lied to him. He pretended he was his friend just to calm his own conscious. Martin suddenly realised that he also felt relieved. Douglas didn’t read the last part of his suicide note then. The part where he confessed his love. At least he spared himself this humiliation.

What sense was there to continue now? He just cut off his last thread of hope, his last anchor to reality. There was nothing left in this world for him, nothing but disappointment and pain. He hated how he treated Douglas yesterday, but he didn’t know how to feel, what to do and he didn’t want to tell Douglas about his suicidal thoughts. And now he just found out that he already knew. He knew all along. At least he was still able to feel angry, Martin told himself. There were times when he didn’t feel at all, he just went through the day, not caring about anything. He cared now. He felt now. He couldn’t hold back a short and hysterical laugh at that. He just felt grateful for being hurt. He apparently hit a new rock bottom.

He looked up at the sky and realised that it would start to rain soon. Where was he? How far away did he go? He took a look at his watch and saw that he was walking through Fitton for six hours already. It was still early, just 1pm, so enough time to go home to his attic and just end it. He wanted it to be today, the day his father died only seven years ago. Right before he finally got his CPL. His father never believed in him, he always told him to search a profession more fitting to his abilities. He hated his father for it, but now it turned out he was right. He wasn’t a pilot. He was a joke. How would his life have been if he had actually listened back then? Martin would never know and now he was about to follow him, seven years and a ruined career later. How poetic to die on the same day as his father. Douglas would have liked that, but of course he didn’t know.

Martin finally found a familiar street and headed back to his flat. It would take him approximately an hour, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he got wet or ill. His body meant nothing to him any more. He walked through Fitton with his head down to avoid people’s gazes. He didn’t want them to see.

Shortly after Martin walked over a bridge and he stopped dead. A bridge. Why go home and end it there when you’re standing on a high bridge over a river? He leaned over the rail and took a look below. The weather was rainy and stormy for the last days, so the river seemed torrential. It was perfect. He stepped back and took a deep breath. Could he really do this?

He thought back on his life. His childhood, how he wanted to be an aeroplane and nobody told him that this was not possible. How carefree he was, how happy, even with Simon and Caitlin as siblings. They weren’t that bad, he thought. Caitlin always tried to prove herself, just like he did. That’s why they sometimes just crashed into each other and fought. But she was his sister, of course he loved her. And Simon... Well, he loved him, too, in some strange ways. Maybe their disagreements were born out of sibling rivalry and not out of despise. He couldn’t really tell. His parents were loving parents, at least during his childhood. But as Martin grew obsessive with flying, his father just lost his faith in his son. There was nothing more devastating than to see how your own father looks at you with disappointment in his eyes. His mother tried to be there, to help him through all his failed exams, but in the end she had her own life. It wasn’t her job to pick the pieces of him up after he failed. Again and again.

He thought about his teenager years, how he missed so many opportunities and never really made friends. He just didn’t care about social things. He wanted to be a pilot. That was his big dream, not to have a girlfriend or boyfriend. He thought about the bullying and the beatings he had to endure in those years. How cruel the boys his age were, what they called him. His heart sank. He didn’t like to remember those years, but they made him strong in his 20’s. When he fought again and again to pass his CPL. And he did. He remembers that day quite vividly. He came home from his part time job and found a letter. He cried out of joy and couldn’t stop smiling for the next week. He was so confident and that was not how he usually was. But then nobody hired him. Who would hire a pilot who took so long to pass his CPL?

But in the end, he got a job at MJN Air. He smiled fondly when he thought of Arthur. He met Arthur first, before he even met Carolyn. He was waiting in front of her office and was so nervous and self-conscious. Arthur just came out of nowhere and sat down beside him. He remembered how Arthur said “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll make a great Skip! The other applicants were all so old, but you’re nearly my age. We could have fun, you know? That would be brilliant!”. Oh, Arthur. He was the first to believe in him. Just like that, no strings attached, without even knowing him. Martin felt a stone drop in his guts and had to step a yard back from the railing. How would Arthur react if he died? If he killed himself? He was always so happy, so cheery, so full of life and joy. Would he loose this happiness? He didn’t want to hurt him. He was like a brother to him.

And Carolyn... She gave him the job. He was aware that he got the job because he offered to work for free, but nonetheless, she trusted him with her life when she gave him the Captain’s hat. She believed in him, even after he screwed up the first landings and panicked over the smallest things. She wanted him to apply for other jobs, better jobs, because she wanted him to be happy. Martin remembered how much fun they had, the word games, Fizz Buzz, all those small and simple things which used to make him smile.

And finally, Douglas. God, how he hated him at the beginning. He was used to following the rules, he _learned_ the rules, for god’s sake. He knew every single one by heart and thought he had to follow them to be a good pilot. But that’s not what a good pilot was made of. Douglas was the living example of that. He had flying in his blood, he always knew what to do. Martin just wasn’t able to see that at the beginning. He learned so much from him over the past five years. He was the captain and yet Douglas was the one who always had an ace up his sleeve. How many times did he save MJN Air from being torn apart? He had to suppress a laugh when he thought about the time where he wanted Douglas to call him Sir. Looking back he realised how stupid that must have sounded. He was not a Sir, he was a child. If he wouldn’t have been so proud, if he would have accepted the job as a first officer for half of the usual salary, he could have a better life now. But he was so stubborn, he wanted to show the world what he can do, that he can be a captain at age 30. Stupid. Stupid. Why was he always so stupid?

Was he stupid now? Douglas tried his best to keep him going for the last days. Maybe he should have stayed, should have talked to him and give him a chance to justify what he’d done. But he was just so angry and disappointed. Looking down at the stream, he found that those feelings slowly vanished. He wasn’t upset any more. He was as calm as he could be. He knew that his feelings for Douglas were messed up. How could one jump from hatred to love in such a short time? He spent most of the last five years with him huddled in very small space and yet he never grew tired of him. He loved him. With all his heart. How could he jump when he still was able to feel?

“Martin,” he suddenly heard the well-known voice of his first officer behind him. He didn’t dare to turn around and look at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to jump.”

“That does not sound as reassuring as you believe.”

“Douglas, I’m not promising anything here. But if I turn away from this now and try to keep on going, will you help me?”

“Anything, Martin. I’d do anything. Just talk to me.”

Slowly Martin turned around and took a few steps away from the railing. Maybe he could do this. Maybe the world wasn’t as black as it seemed now. Maybe. They got in Douglas’ Lexus and drove away. Martin took one look back at the bridge and all he could think was: Maybe.

After a few minutes of silence Douglas dared to ask:

“Did you finish the letter?” Both of them knew what he really wanted to ask: _Did you really plan on ending your life today? Did you stand on that bridge and thought about jumping? Did you look down and imagined how your body would look when it hit the surface?_

“Yes.” They didn’t need any more words.

*

“It’s only 5pm,” Martin protested but Douglas wouldn’t change his mind.

“I don’t care, this was a hell of a day and you need to sleep. Just a few hours.”

“Fine,” replied Martin finally and laid down on Douglas’ soft guest bed. If he was honest, he was exhausted. His legs hurt and he fought hard to keep his eyes open. Maybe Douglas was right, after all.

“Good night, Martin. Sleep well”, whispered Douglas before he finally left the room and closed the door carefully. He slumped against the wall next to the door and slit to the floor. Finally. Finally he had Martin back where he belonged. After he overcame the first minutes of shock this morning, he jumped into his Lexus and drove aimlessly through Fitton. Martin wasn’t in his attic or at Carolyn’s. So he had to wander around town. Douglas knew Martin didn’t have any money to sit in a pub and he was pretty sure that Martin didn’t have any other friends in Fitton. So he just had to find him on the streets. In the end, he nearly lost hope. Hours had passed and there was no sign from Martin whatsoever. But then on the bridge, he finally found him. He was never so torn between feeling relieved and anxious when he saw how Martin looked down at the stream. But then Martin made the decision himself. He came back, he asked for help. That was a start. A good start. They could work with that.

Douglas got up from the floor and wanted to spend the rest of the evening in front of his TV to shut out the feeling of seeing Martin standing on a bridge. But before he settled in, he saw Martin’s bag on his sofa. His bag with his letter. His finished letter. Douglas knew that their whole fight this morning was about his snooping. But there was nothing left to screw up, no matter if he looked at it or not.

He eyed the door but heard nothing from the other side. Slowly he took the bag and opened it. It didn’t take long to find the envelope and he didn’t hesitate any longer. He needed to know. He wanted to help Martin as soon as possible, but how could he without knowing the whole story? He silently enfolded the letter and began to read the missing paragraph.

He read it again and again. But the words didn’t change. Martin loved him. _Martin_ loved him. How could someone like Martin fall for someone like him? He was 20 years older. Martin could have chosen anybody, anybody at all, yet he fell for him. He never said or shown that he was interested in men. Douglas saw him hitting on women in the flight deck right in front of his eyes. He dated this Princess Theresa a few months back.  Why didn’t he tell him? And why didn’t Douglas recognise his feelings? He was usually so damn good at reading people’s feelings; he used it as his advantage for years. But he totally missed this. What should he do now? Should he say something about it? He was quite sure that Martin would never tell him about this himself. Was he ashamed of his feelings? Didn’t he want to love Douglas? He knew that he wasn’t as young as he used to be any more, but there was nothing wrong with him. People loved him before. God, why was this all so messy?

The more he thought about Martin’s feeling towards him, the more agitated he got. Everything blurred and he thought about so many situations where he just should have noticed. How could he have been so blind? They could have talked about this months ago, maybe Martin wouldn’t feel as hopeless as he was doing now if he’d have known that Douglas would be there for him. He didn’t get scared away by something like that. He loved new challenges, he loved to be needed, he loved... Martin? Douglas had to stop his own thoughts for a moment. Did he just think that he loved Martin? He didn’t love Martin. He couldn’t love Martin. They’ve known each other for so many years, there was never any tension between them. He never looked at Martin like that. Or did he?

Douglas rubbed his hands over his face and tried to order his thoughts. He was confused, he was worried, and that’s why his emotions blurred into a massive ball of unrecognizable something. He didn’t love Martin. Of course not. What a stupid thought. But then again... He never tried to find a new partner after Helena left. He never chased stewardesses any more. He kind of developed a domestic routine with Martin in the flight deck, they would laugh, talk, enjoy their time together. At least that’s what they used to do before... Well, before Martin discovered his own longings. Could it be possible that Martin, _Martin, of all people_ , would be able to work this out before he did? Douglas shook his head and had to try his best not to laugh out of desperation.

He had to admit that he did find Martin adorable this morning, when he was sleepy, when his hair was still a little bit wet and curled at the end of each strand. He enjoyed caring for Martin’s well-being, to cook for him. He wanted to make sure he slept, he wanted to watch him sleep to be sure. He also very vividly remembered the nauseating fear which gripped him when he first read the letter. And how he felt when he saw Martin standing on that bridge today. Maybe his emotions were a little bit too strong for friendship, but then again, he never had a friend in such a vulnerable situation before. Maybe it was just his Richardson-caretaker-gene. But maybe not.

At the end of the evening, Douglas was still none the wiser. He just couldn’t trust his own feelings. Everything was messed up lately. When he went to bed his last thoughts were that maybe... maybe he had missed more than he initially thought.


	5. Chapter 5

When Douglas woke the next morning he felt like he was ran over by a bus. No, a bus wasn’t even big enough for how knocked out he felt. He should have never read the finished letter. How could he take care of Martin when he didn’t even know where they stood? It was his own fault in the end, he decided to read it. He alone. Now he had to live with the consequences and all those messed up feelings.

He slowly got out of his bed and headed for Martin’s room. He just had to make sure he was okay. He carefully opened the door and saw the sleeping silhouette of his captain in his guest bed. He saw the slow rise and fall of his chest, his closed eyes, his tousled hair and his slightly open mouth. Douglas was sure that he’d never seen anything as endearing as this. He slept. At last. He checked his watch and realised that Martin went to bed 14 hours ago, so he truly must have been exhausted. But this would all change now, he would take care of it. Douglas smiled to himself and closed the door behind him to let Martin sleep some more. The boy obviously needed it.

Two hours, a long, hot shower and a quick breakfast later, he heard the door to his guest room open and forced himself not to look. He didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful Martin looked when he was sleepy. But his luck seemed to have finally left him when Martin sat down on the couch beside him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked carefully.

“Better... Not good, not anything close to good... But... Yeah, better,” stuttered Martin and avoided Douglas’ eyes.

“Did you sleep through the night?”

“I surprisingly did. I never slept that long in my life.”

“Well, there’s always a first for everything,” grinned Douglas and saw a small smile on Martin’s face. It was nowhere near his old smile, but hell, it was the best Martin could have done in that moment. He didn’t need to fake his happiness. A small smile every so often would be enough for now. One step after another. Douglas felt his heart swell with fondness and he had to try very hard not to reach out and touch Martin. Ruffle his hair. Stroke his cheek. Kiss him.

“Douglas, I actually wanted to discuss something with you.” Martin looked ashamed at his hands, which lay neatly folded in his lap.

“What’s wrong?” asked Douglas and took a worrying look at his captain.

“I... You know what I told you about my attic room? Well, I have to get all my stuff out today. I didn’t... I didn’t really plan to still be here, so I didn’t plan what to do with my things and where to move and... I thought I could maybe... at first... maybe rent a storage room and...”

“No way! You move in with me, of course,” interrupted Douglas the rambling and sat up a little straighter on the sofa. He would fight for this, if he had to.

“But not permanently.”

“Why ever not? I have a room, you need a somewhere to stay. I kind of felt lonely after my divorce, you could keep me company. I love to cook, you need to eat. This seems like the perfect solution to me.”

“I... God, Douglas. You can’t possibly mean that!” exclaimed Martin and absent-mindedly kneaded his hands together.

“Martin, when I told you that I would do anything, anything at all to help you, I meant it. If you want to stay here till you sorted everything out, I would be happy to let you.”

“Just... just let me think about it for a few minutes, okay? I’m heading for the shower first.” Martin slowly rose from the sofa and left once Douglas nodded his approval. Of course he could think it through. Douglas actually wanted him to think about it, because he needed to trust his own decisions again. Douglas couldn’t just take over Martin’s life to help him; Martin required his self confidence and the will back to work for his dreams. And if he would fail, if he would fall back down again, Douglas would be there to pick up the pieces and start again.

*

 “Hello?” Douglas picked his phone up with a questioning expression on his face. It was still early, nobody who knew him would call that early.

“Douglas? It’s Carolyn. Is Martin with you?”

“Yes, he is just getting dressed. I could call him if you want.” Douglas heard Carolyn let out a relieved breath and a silent “Oh Thank God”.

“Wait. How is he doing? And don’t lie to me.”

“We had a massive fight yesterday. He knows that I read the letter and was quite angry at first, but he’s back. He asked for help. That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I hope so...”

 “Did you talk with Arthur about it?” asked Douglas carefully. He liked Arthur, he really did, but he also knew that the boy sometimes reacted in strange ways. His cheeriness was enviable, but also easily breakable when topics like death or leaving were involved. He once said he was being selfish for wanting their little MJN Air family to always stay together and keep flying. Douglas smiled fondly at that memory and hoped silently that Arthur took the news regarding Martin well. He shouldn’t worry too much, that wouldn’t help Martin to find his way into life back at all.

“I did and first he went straight into town and brought a present for him to cheer him up. To be honest, I think it’s a stuffed toy otter. He then told me that if I wouldn’t start to pay Martin and help him, I would not be brilliant any more. And that’s as insulting as Arthur can get. So I looked through all my papers and accounts and well, I may have been able to find some money to spare. I want to tell him rather sooner than later, so if you could get him on the phone I would be most grateful.”

Douglas had to hide a little smile when he called for Martin. It was so Arthur-like to threat someone with a phrase like “not brilliant” and get him a get-well-soon-otter. Nobody outside their little MJN Air family would understand what that implied and he loved to be a part of this.

“What’s going on?” asked Martin when he entered the living room, his shirt not entirely buttoned up and his hair unkempt.

“Carolyn’s on the phone, she wants to speak with you.”

Martin flashed a panicked look at Douglas and mouthed a silent “Does she know?” Douglas nodded his head and saw how Martin’s face changed from panicked to ashamed, before he grabbed the phone and tried to sound casual:

“Hello Carolyn. What can I do for you?”

“Martin, I’m not calling because I want something from you.”

“You only ever call when you want something,” defended Martin himself and sighed deeply.

“Well, yes, but not now. Listen, I know you’ve been with MJN for five years now and I really appreciate your commitment and so I decided that it’s time you get something back. I can give you 20.000 pounds as salary per year. I know it’s not as much as you could earn when you would fly with a real airline, but maybe it’s a start. What do you say?”

“I... I... I really don’t know what to say. Do you offer me this because you know about my... situation?”

“No, Martin, I’m offering you a salary because you work for me. This is how things normally go. I’m not in a charitable mood; I’m just doing what is right.”

“O-okay. Fine. Thank you. I would truly appreciate that.”

“Good. I will send you your first pay check by the end of the week, alright?”

“Yeah, but I... I kind of moved. I’m staying at Douglas’ flat, so...” Martin trailed off and Douglas smiled to himself. So Martin decided that he wanted to stay, at least for now. Good. Very good indeed.

“At _Douglas_ ’ flat? Right, what you guys do in your spare time is luckily none of my business. I will just send the check to his address.”

Martin felt his cheeks getting hot and tried to hide the blush he knew was forming. “We don’t _do_ anything.I just... stay here. I... I better hang up now and... well, thank you again.”

“My pleasure. Oh, and Martin?”

“Yes?”

“Take care of yourself, will you?”

“I’ll try!”

“Good. Bye then.”

“Bye,” murmured Martin and gave the phone back to Douglas, who stared at him with a raised eyebrow. He only heard Martin’s answers but he could vividly imagine what Carolyn told him.

“So... You’re going to get paid now.”

“Yes...” murmured Martin and smiled. Douglas realised with a sinking feeling that Martin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, in fact, it seemed rather forced and unhappy. Douglas knew that earning a salary wasn’t Martin’s only problem, but he hoped that it would have a bigger effect on his captain. If he got paid, he wouldn’t have to keep the man with a van business going, or at least he could do it only every now and then. And he could pay for food and rent again. And he could prove to his family that he now had a job where he was appreciated for his abilities. So why was he not happy about that? What was he missing?

Martin must have noticed how unimpressed Douglas looked at his smile and quickly bowed his head to stare at the floor. He took a deep breath and tried not to seem so desperate, so lost. He was pretty sure that he didn’t manage it too well, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

“Alright... So... I think you already heard me saying it to Carolyn, but... if you really don’t have a problem with me staying here, then... then I would accept your offer. My landlord wants to come by at noon, so maybe I should go there now to get the last boxes and give him the keys and everything...” Martin’s voice got silent at the end and he still didn’t dare to look at Douglas.

“Good, let’s go!” exclaimed Douglas and stood up from the sofa to gather his jacket and car keys.

“What? You want to come with me?” asked Martin and finally managed to rise his head back up again. Douglas only shot him a “of-course-you-idiot”-look and made his way to the front door. Martin shook his head, grabbed his things and followed without another comment.

*

“Look who it is. Our precious Captain Crieff!” laughed a man, who Douglas realised must be Martin’s landlord, across the street when they arrived at Martin’s old home.

“Oh, hello Mr. Williams,” replied Martin warily when they finally reached the door and extended his hand in a polite greeting. Mr. Williams grabbed Martin’s hand and shook it just a little bit too hard for Douglas’ liking. It was almost brutal. Before Douglas had the opportunity to introduce himself, Martin’s landlord was already eyeing him suspiciously.

“Who is that? Your sugar daddy?” joked Mr. Williams and barked another deep laugh. Douglas wasn’t sure if he was joking or offending them. He smiled friendly, yet his comments seemed to make Martin uncomfortable.

“What? NO! I... You... No! He’s a... colleague... friend. Douglas. He’s here to help me collect my last stuff.”

“You? A friend? You’re shitting me! You lived in this house for ten years and I’ve never seen a friend of yours! I don’t even want to know what a kind of friendship this is.”

Martin forced a little smile and shifted his weight awkward from foot to foot. Douglas tried his best to stay calm. It wouldn’t help anyone if he lost it now but he just wanted this Mr. Williams to shut up. If this was the kind of people Martin had to deal with on a regular basis he understood why his self-confidence was literally non-existent.

“Well, so nice to meet you, too, Mr. Williams. I would love to discuss our private matters with you some more, but I believe we’re here for a different reason. Let’s just skip to the business part, won’t we?” Douglas tried to lighten the mood.

“Oh, no need to be all protective. I was just joking, that’s what we do, isn’t it, Martin?”

“Yes... Sure...”

“I don’t want to interrupt your little hilarities, but I think it would be best if Martin and I head inside to get the boxes. We’ll bring you the keys afterwards,” dared Douglas and led Martin inside and up the stairs with a protective hand on his back.

“Well, he’s a jerk!” exclaimed Douglas once they reached the attic and smiled in Martin’s direction to cheer him up a little. Martin just blushed and grabbed the first box with his personal belongings before he left the attic again. Douglas sighed and copied his actions. Only five minutes later the few boxes were safely stored in the trunk and on the back seat of Douglas’ car and together they entered the kitchen, where Mr. Williams was sitting over a cup of tea.

“Okay, everything is empty. Here are the keys.” Martin placed the two keys on the table and turned around to leave.

“Oh Captain Crieff, you want to leave like that? No goodbye? No nice last words for your poor landlord?”

“Oh... yeah, you’re right. So... Thank you for letting me stay here the last ten years and goodbye!” rushed Martin out without turning back.

“I hope your _boyfriend_ will take care of you now. It’s nice to be a kept-man, isn’t it? Must be so relaxing!” provoked Mr. Williams with a sly smile and looked non-approving at Douglas.

“We’re not...,” started Martin before Douglas interrupted him with a raging expression on his face.

“Right, that’s enough now. We’re not going to listen to your splutter any longer. You have your keys. You have your room cleared out. There is nothing more we have to endure here. Bye!”

Douglas took Martin’s upper arm in his grip and steered him out of the house and to his car, where they sat down without saying another word. As Douglas drove away, he felt the tension and anger slowly leaving his body and he relaxed a little bit in his seat. This chapter was over, there was no need to dwell on it. Martin would never have to encounter somebody like that alone again. They would fight together. Utterly lost in thought, Douglas almost didn’t hear the soft “Thank you” coming from his passenger seat.


	6. Chapter 6

Douglas looked at his flat and smiled to himself. It had changed. There were only a few items which belonged to Martin, yet those small changes made Douglas happier than he was for a very long time. He wasn’t alone any more. It didn’t matter if it was Martin’s toothbrush next to his own, his socks lying around in the living room or the little model aircraft in his bookshelf. Douglas knew that Martin wasn’t finished unpacking his stuff, in fact, Martin tried to avoid unpacking at all. He didn’t want to intrude into Douglas’ flat, but he did nevertheless. Douglas made a mental note to tell Martin how welcome his things were, how he could rearrange the flat, how he should make himself at home. It was his flat now, too.

He went to their kitchen to get the ingredients for two chicken sandwiches out of the fridge. He knew that Martin had a stressful day yesterday so he didn’t comment on his lack of eating then, but after he even declined to have breakfast this morning Douglas just had to keep trying. He got a pan out and started humming along to the music coming from his radio. This was all so strangely domestic. Douglas loved to share his life with somebody else, although he knew that this was different. He usually shared it with his girlfriends or wives; he never had a simple flat share before. He had to admit that even this arrangement with Martin was not _only_ a flat share, it was rather blurry. They fitted so well, yet there was always a distance between them. He didn’t dare to overcome this distance, for Martin’s sake. He needed to concentrate on his own life first before he maybe found the strength to let someone else in. Douglas was also aware that he just discovered his own feelings towards Martin and maybe needed some more time to get to terms with them.

Douglas heard the door to Martin’s room, not _his_ guest room, _Martin’s_ room, open and shortly after Martin appeared in the kitchen.

“You want to eat something?” Douglas asked without turning around. He knew that Martin still felt uncomfortable with food. He didn’t want to make it worse by pushing too hard or by measuring every piece of food Martin ate.

“What did you make?” asked Martin back and stepped closer to Douglas. He peered around his shoulder into the pan and Douglas stopped his actions. They rarely touched, nor were they ever physically close to each other. Douglas just didn’t know what would overstep Martin’s boundaries. He wanted to hug him, to stroke his hair, to hold him while he cried at night. But they weren’t that far just yet. Maybe one day Martin would come to him, would ask for affection and comfort. Douglas hoped he wouldn’t take too long.

“Chicken sandwiches,” squeezed Douglas out and tried to stop thinking about the what-if’s.

“Mhm... I could try, but I don’t know if I manage a whole one,” said Martin and went to the cupboard to retrieve two plates. Douglas was satisfied as he observed how Martin grabbed four slices of bread and put them into the toaster. He didn’t ask. He forgot to ask Douglas if he needed help, if there was something he could do. He just did. Maybe he was starting to feel comfortable, maybe even at home.

Douglas flipped the chicken over till he was pleased with the colour of it and put it on top of the slices of toast Martin prepared. After they added some other ingredients they took their plates to the little table and began to eat in companionable silence. Douglas couldn’t help but think again how wonderfully domestic this was and realised with a smile on his face how he fell more and more in love with Martin.

“I... I like food,” started Martin and looked appraisingly at Douglas. The latter didn’t know how to react or if he should react at all. Martin rarely talked about food. Even before all this in the flight deck they never talked about it. It was taboo. Whenever Douglas tried to broach the subject he was confronted with sulking silence. Douglas decided that an open and mildly encouraging look at Martin was probably the best idea. Martin would know that he listened, but didn’t push if he wanted to drop the subject. Martin seemed to get the idea and continued.

“What... what I mean to tell you is that... I like to eat. I don’t hate food per se. I know how you think that this is some sort of self-harm or eating disorder but... it’s not! I just... and I know that this might sound a little weird to you... but I just told myself that I didn’t need that much food. Or good food. No that sounds wrong... Gosh...” Martin stopped and rubbed his face in his hands before he took a deep breath. “I just consumed what I could get at one point. And so over the last months I just forgot that food is something you should enjoy... because it was always a fight for me. You know how beans on toast and pasta taste when it’s all you had for months? Like cardboard! First I fought to be able to buy it and then I had to fight to keep it down. I hated that. I felt so weak. So I was constantly torn between craving food and avoiding it... I think I just have to get used to the idea of eating regularly again. I hope you understand that...”

“Well!” exclaimed Douglas and had to take a deep breath himself. That was a hell of a confession. “I think I do. Would it help if I stopped offering?”

“No...  I just wanted you to know so you don’t... force me to eat,” explained Martin.

“I never forced you to do anything you really don’t want!” defended Douglas himself as he began to think about moments where he might have given Martin the feeling of being forced.

“I didn’t say you did... You’re doing fine. It’s just a precaution,” Martin said, interrupting Douglas’s doubts before he flashed him a small smile to verify his statement.

“Good... good, I’ll keep that in mind, then,” Douglas finally agreed with a little smile himself and picked his sandwich back up.

*

They spent the next days in the little, undisturbed bubble of Douglas’ flat away from annoying landlords, judging eyes, overworked Airline CEOs and over-cheery stewards. Douglas felt like they needed this time to get used to their new living arrangements and to work out how to react around each other. Martin gradually unpacked more of his things and filled the wardrobe in his room with a few pieces of clothing. Douglas knew that Martin still had moments where his mood changed from peaceful contentment to absolute horror - he also knew that there would be bad days in the future - but he couldn’t help but feel that this was heading in the right direction. They spent their days watching crap telly, listening to music, or simply reading in comfortable silence. Martin opened up more and more and he even talked with him, not really about his suicidal thoughts or his mood swings, but about random stuff. What he liked and didn’t like, how he grew up, about the times he failed his CPLs. He even talked about his breakup with Princess Theresa and how he couldn’t help but feel relieved about it at that time. Douglas in return talked about his daughter, his failed marriages, especially the last one with Helena, and how he became a pilot. At night, when Douglas lay wide awake in his bed, he began to realise that he never felt more content in his life.

When Martin’s first pay check arrived on their last day off, Douglas became aware of the fact that this protected environment wouldn’t last forever. They had to work again tomorrow. He wasn’t sure if Martin felt ready to go out there again, to fly again. He knew that being a pilot and able to fly was what Martin loved the most, but it was also what brought him down lately. Was he able to enjoy flying again? Or would it remind him how pointless his life felt? If Martin wouldn’t be ready he could do the flight without him, yet he didn’t want to leave Martin in the flat on his own.

 Douglas decided that it would be best to talk this through. He sat down beside Martin and waited till he closed the lid of Douglas’ laptop.  

“Martin, we have to work again tomorrow,” he broached the subject carefully and waited for Martin to say something. Martin just raised a questioning eyebrow.

“And?”

“Do you _want_ to work again?”

“What do you mean? It’s my job!” Martin shook his head in disbelieve.

“Yes, thank you, I’m aware of that, Captain. I’m asking you if you think you’re fit to fly!” clarified Douglas tentatively.

“If I’m... Douglas, I’m not sick! Of course I’m fit to fly!” protested Martin and shot Douglas a dangerous look.

“God, Martin, don’t get me wrong here. I’m not saying that I think you shouldn’t fly, I’m just asking you what you feel about this...” intervened Douglas before this would get out of hand.

“I doesn’t matter what I feel. I am going to fly tomorrow. It is my duty as the supreme commander of t-“

“Yes, jolly good, I know that phrase already,” interjected Douglas with a little remembering smile on his face.

“Look, Douglas. I am better, I really am. I get paid now and I can get my van fixed and get a new flat. I will sort this all out eventually.”

“You want to move?” asked Douglas as he tried to hide his sadness.

“Of course, I can’t stay here forever, can I?” Martin tried to joke but Douglas couldn’t bring himself to smile in response. He was foolish for believing that this would be permanent. Of course Martin would leave once he got the money. Martin opened the lid of the laptop again and turned it towards Douglas. “Here, look, I’ve been searching for flats on the internet. I’ve found a few interesting offers already, they aren’t even that expensive. Of course it won’t be as nice as your flat, but well...”

“You can’t leave, sorry,” disagreed Douglas stubbornly.

“What? This is not a prison! Are you joking?”

“No. You’re still not fine again and you can avoid talking about your suicidal thoughts as long as you like, but till you agree to do so I am not going to let you live alone again.”

“You know I’m not a bloody teenager and you’re not my mother, right?” asked Martin, getting more and more stubborn himself.

“I would treat you like an adult if you would start to behave like one!” yelled Douglas, frustrated.

“ _WHAT_?! Douglas, what... You can’t treat me like a lunatic or a prisoner, I thought we are friends!”

“Are we?!” spat Douglas. Martin looked surprised and his shoulders slumped defeated. Of course they weren’t. He was a fool for believing that. He quickly stood up and made his way to his bedroom to pack. He didn’t want to leave this quickly but there was no use of staying now, was there?

Douglas realised with horror what he’d just said. That did not come out right. He could have slapped himself. Before Martin reached the living room door he quickly added the first words which came to his mind. “We’re more!”

Martin froze with his back turned towards Douglas. What did he just hear? It couldn’t be.

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“We’re not just friends. We’re more,” repeated Douglas and didn’t dare to move a single muscle. This could backfire badly. A few seconds passed as both their brains ran at full speed. “You can’t leave because I want you to stay here with me.”

“You can’t possibly mean that,” whispered Martin finally.

“Why ever not?”

“Because I’m me... and you’re you. Douglas Richardson. The skygod. This is... just impossible,” Martin replied agitated. He finally turned around to get a look at Douglas’ face. He had to see if he was being sincere.

“Look, Martin, I know it’s not the best time to tell you that. But I want to be with you,” explained Douglas.

“Why... why didn’t you tell me before all this happened?”

“I didn’t know... I just realised it a few days ago... I never thought about my feelings, how they’ve changed over the years. You were always just there, always beside me in the flight deck and I was happy with that. And when I saw you on that bridge and realised that that might change my heart just sank and I...”

“A few days ago... Wait... Douglas... Did you read the finished letter?” Martin asked finally. He had a horrible suspicion.

“Yes,” was all that Douglas could answer. He couldn’t lie now, not about something as important as this. Martin just looked at him, his face perfectly blank.

“Ah okay, now I get it. You don’t have to tell me that you have feelings for me just to make me feel better, you know?”

“I don’t.” Douglas tried to stay as calm as he could. Martin’s fists clenched desperately at his own trousers and he needed to relax. He needed to see that Douglas was not joking or lying.

“Then stop this nonsense... I... God, why would you do this to me? Why do you lie to me? Douglas, I am not going to kill myself because of this, I can deal with those feelings myself. You don’t have to... There are some things you can’t fix. Just... Or... or do you do this to mock me later? Little jokes on the flight deck with the others... I can imagine what you would say... _Oh look, Carolyn, let’s play the game ‘Who is in love with me’ and my first answer is Martin_. Yeah. Hilarious. That would be absolutely hilarious for you, wouldn’t it? God, I can’t believe that you would be so cruel!” stammered Martin as he paced through the room.

“Martin. Please calm down. I told you about my feelings without any ulterior motives. Okay, maybe I had some, like getting you to stay here, but I am not telling you this to fix you or to mock you. I just... I just couldn’t hold it back, I’m sorry.”

“But... but... Douglas, I can’t believe you,” said Martin hopelessly and turned towards the door.   

 “What do I have to do to convince you that I am sincere?”

“Nothing. I’m going to bed now. Just forget about it, okay? Good night,” Martin replied as he finally reached the door and the much needed escape. Douglas saw the door slam shut and slid down on the sofa. He knew it was a big risk to take, that’s why he wanted to wait with this confession. Now he ruined it. He took a last look at the closed door and whispered distressed “Alright, whatever you need.”


	7. Chapter 7

The drive towards the airfield was what Douglas would describe as bloody awkward. Martin hadn’t spoken more than ten words with him following his unintentional confession yesterday. After the week of domestic bliss he felt weirdly lonely when he had breakfast by himself. It was ridiculous; he ate alone a thousand mornings before and yet never felt his solitude this much. He remembered how his life had changed in the past five years, how he’d gradually grown closer to Martin. It seemed almost inevitable that they ended like that, that they fell in love. It was only logical.

When they finally arrived the air between them was unmistakeably tense. They walked towards the portacabin where Carolyn and Arthur were already talking about the upcoming flight to Athens. As soon as they stepped into the room everyone fell silent. Martin shifted from foot to foot and tried his best not to look too embarrassed. They knew. Douglas almost forgot that he wasn’t the only one who knew Martin’s secret. He was worried how the stiff atmosphere between them would affect the flight, but of course that wasn’t the only thing that changed. How would Carolyn react? He looked over Martin’s shoulder to search her face, but she seemed just as clueless how to respond as everyone else.

Arthur was the first to break the silence when he got up from his chair and quickly made his way over to Martin. Without saying a word he stepped into his space and wrapped his arms as tight as possible around his captain. Carolyn’s face twisted into a little smile as she took in the scene in front of her in. Douglas saw how Arthur’s eyes got dangerously wet as he rested his head on Martin’s shoulder. He never saw Martin cry, nor did he cry himself. As he saw the traces of a smile on Martin’s face and how he slowly raised his own arms to return Arthur’s hug, he wondered if they should have been more open with their feelings themselves. If they should have cried or hugged to let it all out. Douglas almost laughed when he realised that Arthur, _Arthur_ , may have taught him a lesson about understanding people. Maybe the course in Ipswich wasn’t that useless after all.

After a few seconds Arthur dropped his arms back down but stayed close to Martin. He quickly wiped his eyes before he managed to look in Martin’s eyes.

“Skip, I’m glad you’re back!” he exclaimed finally and shot him one of his most Arthur-like smiles.

“I’m glad, too,” murmured Martin.

“You know you’re brilliant, right? I don’t know exactly what happened but mum told me that you’re really, _really_ sad and that you didn’t want to live any more, but you can’t do that, you can’t leave us, you’re brilliant and you’re the skipper! We need you!”

Carolyn rolled her eyes, still with a smile on her face. She saw how Martin carefully nodded and how he let out a relieved sigh, before she roamed through her papers again.

“Yes, thank you Arthur, but we should really talk about the flight plan now,” Carolyn said as she finally found the right papers. “Drivers, we’re flying, as you hopefully know, to Athens today. The cargo is already loaded and there will be, thank god, no passengers. We will start in two hours and land at approximately 5pm. I’ve booked us two rooms at the Parnon Hotel for the night. Any questions?”

“Two rooms?” asked Martin carefully.

 “Yes, well, I thought now that you and Douglas live together in a flat you might want to keep the little summer-camp feeling going!” explained Carolyn as she grinned in Douglas’ direction.

“But...” started Martin but got interrupted by Douglas.

“That’ll be fine. Thank you.”

“Good. Now, Martin, there is paperwork for you to do. Hurry up!” Carolyn snarled and left the room. Arthur, Martin and Douglas stared at each other for a few seconds and this time Douglas was the one who broke the silence.

“So, Arthur, how was the zoo?”

*

After the surprisingly uneventful flight and a quick dinner at the hotel restaurant, Douglas changed into his pyjamas and sat down on his bed to read a crime novel. He just couldn’t concentrate on anything today and maybe this would finally take the edge off. As he heard Martin shuffling around in the bathroom, he realised how grateful he was for Arthur’s presence tonight. He was so afraid that things might get weird between them, yet every time Martin got tense or started to panic Arthur was just there. He entertained them with stories about his free week, with explaining the latest movies he saw, with just being Arthur. Douglas wondered when Arthur developed such a good sense of recognizing Martin’s moods and how he always knew what to say or do to relax him. He didn’t even think about it. Maybe that was the secret after all; maybe he just over thought everything. He really needed to rely on his instincts more often.

Douglas stopped thinking when Martin opened the bathroom door and entered their hotel room with his toothbrush in hand. He seemed a lot more relaxed than this morning.

“You don’t really let me out of your sight anymore, do you?” asked Martin playfully as he noticed Douglas’ calculating look on him.

“Well, I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but I’m just worried for Sir’s well-being,” Douglas replied with a grin, and was satisfied when Martin let out a small laugh.

“I’m fine,” Martin assured and started to brush his teeth. With the other hand he got his pyjamas out of his overnight bag and laid them carefully out on the bed. Douglas thought how very Martin that was, everything had its order, its place and its rules and he would never bend those. There was a time when he was annoyed by Martin’s compliance, now he couldn’t help but find it endearing. Douglas finally averted his eyes and resumed to read the book in his hands.

Lost in the plot of his book he missed how Martin finished his teeth brushing and slowly started to unbutton his shirt to get changed for the night. Only when Douglas heard how Martin’s shirt landed on the other bed in the room he realised what was happening right beside him. Martin was undressing. He had his back turned towards him, yet he could see a glimpse of his lean chest. He had seen Martin getting changed so many times over the last five years, and yes, he had looked before, but now with his newly discovered feelings it felt weirdly intimate. Like he was allowed to see what other people didn’t. For a few seconds he wondered if he really was allowed to watch or if Martin was just too lost in thought to realise that he was undressing right in front of him. But in the end it didn’t matter. Martin felt comfortable and that was the only thing of importance.

Douglas saw how the fine muscles of Martin’s back twitched as he started to unbutton his trousers. He would have given anything to be allowed running his hands over this lean and yet so strong back. Douglas realised with a smirk on his face that the man with a van business definitely had its advantages, Martin surely wouldn’t be so well-toned if he would only sit in a flight deck every day. He observed how the freckles on Martin’s skin moved with the muscles underneath, how Martin’s arm flexed as he unzipped his trousers and how Martin finally stepped out of this unnecessary piece of clothing. Martin was smaller than Douglas, yet his legs were long and slender and Douglas couldn’t help but think that this was the most beautiful body he ever laid eyes upon. He never thought of men as beautiful, he sometimes acknowledged their bodies as nice or even fit, yet Martin was just beautiful. Douglas suppressed a laugh as he saw how Martin neatly folded his clothes. He was always so stuffy.

As Martin moved through the room Douglas finally got a better view on his chest. He couldn’t help but think how unhealthy skinny Martin was. His ribs were so visible that Douglas just wanted to feed him up a little, but he knew that this would cross far too many boundaries of their friendship. Instead he wanted to wrap his arms around him, protect him, keep him safe, warm and comfortable. He never thought that such a vulnerable body was hidden under the saggy uniform. Stupid. He should have known how much weight Martin lost because of his involuntary diet. He should have seen it months ago; he should have intervened back then. Douglas stopped himself thinking too much about that. There was no use in wondering what could have been. They were here now, they had each other and nothing else mattered.

Douglas felt a pang of sadness when Martin grabbed his pyjama bottoms and started to pull them over his legs. He liked to observe, to watch, and didn’t want it to end that quickly. Who knew when he got the next chance to see this side of Martin? He saw how the muscles in Martin’s chest tensed dangerously and how he stopped dead in his actions. Douglas raised his eyes to Martin’s face and realised why he froze: He saw Douglas looking at him, all of him. He was fully turned towards Douglas now and looked caught between feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

“You’re beautiful,” whispered Douglas and hoped that Martin would relax again. He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. It was too much to hope for.

“I...” started Martin to reply, but stopped himself and clutched his t-shirt to his chest to hide behind it. Douglas sensed that Martin was about to panic and quickly left for the bathroom to give Martin some space.

Martin was still looking at the empty space on Douglas’ bed minutes after he left. He couldn’t understand why Douglas would be looking at him like that. With... desire, lust, affection. That was just impossible. Nobody ever looked at him like that, why would somebody, especially somebody like _Douglas_ , the sky god and self proclaimed stewardess hunter, start now? He looked down at his body and found nothing which would cause such a reaction. He looked ill, nothing more and nothing less. He raised his hand and ran it over his protruded rips, his far too visible hip bones, and his skinny stomach. Nothing. There was nothing desirable.

He quickly slipped into his T-Shirt and got under the duvet to hide himself some more. Douglas wouldn’t stay in the bathroom forever and he really didn’t want to repeat what just happened. Or did he? He noticed how his heart fluttered in his chest when he thought of Douglas. Only yesterday he thought that Douglas would never find him attractive or even love him. He thought that Douglas was joking. But maybe he was wrong again. Maybe Douglas was able to see something in him which he wasn’t able to see himself. Maybe he was telling the truth after all. He was aware how dangerous these thoughts were. If he would start to hope now, he couldn’t go back. He managed to hide his feelings so well, he learned to ignore them most of the time, hell, he even got through the conversation yesterday without feeling this little spark of something, he couldn’t just let those feelings out now. What if Douglas left? He was a womanizer after all. He would probably grow tired and go back to women someday. That’s how it always was. Why would he, of all people, be different?

A few minutes later the door to the bathroom opened and Douglas carefully went back to his bed. Martin felt his scrutinising look on his back and curled up into a ball some more. He hugged the duvet as tight as he could and tried to force his body to sleep. Just escape.

“Are you okay?” asked Douglas so quietly that Martin almost missed it.

“Yes...” answered Martin, but Douglas saw the tension in his whole body and decided to finally listen to his instincts. He slowly got up from his bed and made his way over to Martin. He stopped a few seconds, just to make clear what he intended to do and to not overwhelm Martin. The latter finally peaked out from under his duvet wall and raised a questioning eyebrow. Without thinking any more about the consequences and possible rejections, he lifted Martin’s duvet and slipped in behind him.

“What are you doing?” asked Martin breathlessly.

“You’re upset and I will comfort you,” was all what Douglas replied before he moved a little closer to the curled up ball of his Captain and put his arms around the other man’s stomach. For a few seconds Martin’s back tensed even more, before he let out a long breath and gradually started to relax.

“When I told you yesterday that I want to be with you, I didn’t lie. I mean it. I know you’re uncomfortable with all this and it’s okay to worry, but don’t think for a second that I lied,” whispered Douglas in Martin’s hair and noticed how wonderfully their bodies fit into each other. He should have done this years ago.

 “I... I just can’t deal with that now,” replied Martin.

“That’s fine.”

“It’s just... there is nothing attractive about a man who doesn’t love himself. I need to be able to look at myself and not be disgusted before I can let anyone else look at me, or before I can be with someone again. Let me just sort through this first.”

“I understand. No need to rush anything. Relax.” Douglas felt that Martin let out another relieved sigh and snuggled a little closer to Douglas’ chest. A few silent minutes later he heard how Martin’s breath evened out and he slowly drifted to the much needed sleep. When he was sure that the man in his arms was comfortable and safe, he closed his own eyes and sank into a dreamless sleep.

*

“The man who melted Jack Dann,” said Douglas suddenly. They were back in GERTI’s flight deck on their way to Fitton after a calm night with a lot of sleep for both of them. Douglas woke up still tangled with Martin’s body as the sun rose and he realised surprised that they didn’t need to talk about what happened the night before. It was okay. Martin was relaxed and calm and Douglas smiled like an idiot at his reflection in the mirror after his shower. They were okay.

“What?” asked Martin incomprehensibly and shot Douglas a worried look.

“The man who melted Jack Dann. It’s a game. You mix book titles with the author’s name to create a new phrase. You know? Like the book “The man who melted” and the author “Jack Dann”. Your turn,” explained Douglas and hoped that Martin would respond. They hadn’t played any word games for six months, yet Martin seems so relaxed today that he just had to try his luck. 

“Uhh... The joy of cooking Irma Rombauer?” suggested Martin and his face twisted into a little smile.

“Oh, Sir, you surprise me. Flush Virginia Woolf!” exclaimed Douglas proudly and couldn’t help but grin.

“Mhmm... Uhh... That’s really not easy...”

“Captain Blood returns Raphael Sabatini!”

“Yes, very good indeed, like always. But give me a chance!” whined Martin playfully and couldn’t suppress a little laugh.

“I would never play unfair, Sir. And you already got one, that’s one point more than usually,” teased Douglas and Martin shot him an annoyed look.

“Haha, yes, thank you, hilarious! But I’ve got another one! Paradise lost John Milton.”

“Dan Brown lost symbol.”

“I’m never going to win anything against you, will I?” complained Martin, still with a smile plastered on his face.

“I wouldn’t say never, Sir. We’ll see...” was all Douglas replied. After all, even he couldn’t foresee what would happen in the future. But Douglas was pretty sure that the future didn’t seem as dark and hopeless as it used to just a week ago. With the biggest smile ever seen on Douglas Richardson’s face he looked into Martin’s eyes and picked the game up again. He was Douglas Richardson after all, no one would beat him at a word game.


	8. Chapter 8

Martin carefully opened the door to Douglas’ living room the day after their flight to Athens. He had to talk to Douglas about his new idea, but he wasn’t sure how to start. What if Douglas wouldn’t understand, what if he would laugh it off? But then again, Douglas was nothing but supportive all this time, so Martin took a deep breath and stepped towards the sofa before he sat down next to his First Officer.

“Douglas... I think I’m going to see a therapist,” Martin said quickly, interrupting the James Bond movie Douglas was watching halfway through. Douglas knew that this was an important milestone for him, for his confidence and his health, so he grabbed the remote control and muted the TV.

“That’s a good idea,” Douglas commented as he shifted a little towards Martin.

“You really think so?” asked Martin anxiously.

“Of course, I’m not a magician. I can help you with the basic stuff like food and a roof over your head but some things are above me. It’s a good if you start on working on yourself and not just the external factors which were presented to you. That’s good, very good indeed.”

“Okay... So... yeah... I don’t really know where to go from here,” confessed Martin and blushed in shame.  

“You grab my laptop, you search for therapists in Fitton and then you’re going to call them,” suggested Douglas lightly. Martin didn’t need any serious discussions now.

“You make it sound so easy!”

“It is. Just give it a try!” Douglas replied and smiled his most reassuring smile at Martin.

*

Martin spent the next two hours searching the internet for a suitable therapist but felt overwhelmed by the information on the websites. He didn’t even know what he needed or wanted. He thought about asking Douglas for help but he dismissed the thought quickly. This was something he had to decide on his own. In the end he called a centre for suicide prevention. That seemed a good place to start.

A short and awkward phone call later, Martin got an appointment for the afternoon. He never thought that he would get one so fast, but apparently suicidal thoughts were an emergency and had to be treated as fast as possible. He suddenly didn’t know if he could go through with it. What would he tell those people? That he felt down? That sounded pathetic. He was fine. He just... His life just got a little bit mixed up and he didn’t know how to react. That was normal, wasn’t it? Everybody would feel stressed if they had to face homelessness. Perfectly normal. Why did he think it was a good idea to see a therapist?

He finally got up and went to his room to change. It wouldn’t hurt to go, maybe even just this once. Maybe they would tell him that he didn’t need to worry. Martin also thought that he owed this to Douglas. He was so caring and supportive; he needed to see that Martin really tried.

When Martin came back into the living room he didn’t know where to look. He felt ridiculous. Douglas sensed Martin’s mood and smiled reassuringly at him.

“So, see you later then?”

“Yes... Right. See you later,” answered Martin and left. He was glad that Douglas didn’t press the matter any further.

*

Douglas stared a few minutes absentmindedly at the empty space Martin left behind. He wondered if he should have offered to go with Martin to support him and make sure that he didn’t do anything stupid on the way, but after their last fights he tried his best not to patronize Martin any more than strictly necessary. He also thought that this was something Martin should face on his own to gain more confidence in the decisions he made. This was a good decision, a long term decision; he planned for the future again.

He got up from the sofa and went to Martin’s room. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t enter without permission, but he just couldn’t resist it. Martin slept in this room only for a couple of days now, yet everything smelled of his unmistakeable scent. They used the same shampoo and soap the last days, they should smell alike, but Martin always smelled different, a little sweet, like he just secretly ate a pile of chocolate cookies, or a couple of oranges, or just a spoonful of cinnamon. Of course he ate none of those things, Douglas knew that and this made him even more curious. A grown man shouldn’t smell like that, they should smell spicy and heavy, yet Martin was just unique. In every way. Douglas never met anyone like his captain, so full of opposites: His looks so odd and unusual yet beautiful. His mood often black yet he lit up when he got to prove his strength as a captain. His easy embarrassment and need to prove himself, but when he flew he was so confident, so strong that it took Douglas’ breath away.

Douglas went to Martin’s bed and sat down beside the pillow. This was insane. Why was he here? He didn’t want to intrude Martin’s private life anymore than he already did, but god, he needed this moment alone. He tried his best to support Martin in every possible way, to be there for him, but his patience wore thin. He just wanted to be with the man, be able to love him, tell him, show him. He didn’t know how long he could keep this dangerous balance. He told Martin that he would wait, that Martin should sort his life out first, and although he sill meant it, it got harder each day, each moment he spend with the other man. If two people fell in love, shouldn’t it be easy?

He pressed his face annoyed in Martin’s pillow and tried to suffocate these thoughts. He shouldn’t think like that. He was Douglas Richardson, he could deal with almost anything. He didn’t need an easy way; he would take whichever way life presented to him. And he knew that Martin was worth the wait and the struggle, that one day, one day soon, they would finally be able to just love each other. And Martin apparently tried his best to work on his problems, to become his old self again. Douglas shook his head. No, Martin wouldn’t become his old self again. They shouldn’t look back, they should concentrate on the Martin he could be in the future. Confident. Strong. Able to love and be loved. Aware that he made it to the rock bottom and got up again. Douglas couldn’t help but feel a new wave of affection wash over him as he imagined the future Martin, his smirk, his witty comments on the flight deck, his passion. He was really looking forward to see this side of Martin.

For a few minutes Douglas was so lost in thought that he did nothing but deeply breathing in Martin’s scent from his pillow. In the end he decided that he should reward Martin for his effort to see a therapist and get better. He slowly separated himself from the pillow and went to the kitchen to prepare the best sushi he could do. Martin deserved it.

*

Douglas looked proudly at the sushi rolls he created and took them to the fridge to keep them fresh. Martin was gone for over two and a half hours now, but Douglas forced himself not to worry. A first meeting with a new counsellor could take a little longer, or maybe Martin picked a therapist far away, or maybe his van broke down and he waited for a mechanic. There were so many reasons for Martin being gone a longer time than anticipated, yet all Douglas could think of was Martin standing on that damn bridge. He prayed that he was wrong, that Martin wasn’t lying to him earlier, that he didn’t want to get away on his own to end his life. Douglas buried his face in his hands as he sat down on the kitchen table. He was stupid again, why was he always stupid when it came down to Martin? He was over 50, for god’s sake, he was married three times, and yet he behaved like a teenager around the other man. Like this was the first time he fell in love.

He heard the sound of his spare key being turned in the lock and his front door opening. There. Martin was home again, back again, safe and sound. Douglas quickly stood back up and let out a relieved breath, before he carefully blanked his face. Martin didn’t need to see his worries and how he doubted him.

“There you are! I just finished dinner, sit down,” greeted Douglas and Martin complied. He looked a little ashen but not too bad. Without thinking Douglas made his way over to the chair and pressed a soft kiss on Martin’s forehead. Shit. He suddenly realised what he had done and froze still slightly bend over his flatmate. He kissed Martin. He knew that their life got terribly domestic; he just forgot that this was Martin and not one of his ex-wives. He was used to his. Welcoming his partner home with a kiss. That’s what he used to do all the time. Douglas searched his brain for an excuse, anything at all to make this less awkward. But there was nothing.

Before he was able to think of anything, Martin moved again and lifted his head a little bit. He locked his eyes with Douglas’ and gave a little smile which said “It’s okay, don’t worry” and made Douglas’ heart flutter dangerously. He sighed relieved and moved slowly away. It was okay, after all. Thank God.

Douglas got the sushi out and put it onto two plates in silence and finally slumped down on the chair opposite Martin. He knew they had to talk about the appointment with the therapist, but he didn’t know what to say. Everything felt wrong after the stupid kiss. In the end he just moved those thoughts at the back of his mind to deal with them later. This wasn’t the right time. He relaxed a little bit and cleared his throat before he carefully asked.

“So... How did it go?” Martin looked a little startled at the sudden sound which ripped him out of his own thoughts.

“She... well, we talked a bit and I had to fill out some sort of test. She told me that I... She thinks I have a slight form of depression. Not a _real_ depression, just, you know...”

“You do know that a depression is nothing to be ashamed of? It’s an illness, simple as that. Did you think less of me when you heard about my alcohol-problems? That’s an illness, too, yet you never behaved differently around me,” suggested Douglas when he saw how Martin struggled with the diagnosis.

“I know, Douglas, and I would never think less of anyone with an illness.”

“Yet here you are thinking less of yourself and try to talk your way around it.”

“It’s just... I know I’ve not been myself lately. There were some external factors which weren’t really great. But... a depression sounds so serious.” Martin averted his eyes and bit his lower lip nervously. He wasn’t really fine with the diagnosis, he didn’t believe it, he was normal. Healthy. There was nothing wrong with him; it was life in general which tried to suffocate him.

“It is. It’s good to know what we’re working with. Did she give you anything?” asked Douglas carefully.

“Yes, she gave me anti-depressants and I have regular appointments with her now... She doesn’t want me to take the pills for a long time, because they have so many side effects and well... I have to see her two times a week now. I hope Carolyn won’t mind. I know we don’t have so many jobs at the moment, so maybe it’s okay, but if the business gets back to normal I don’t know if I have the time and...”

“Right. Let me just stop there, Martin. You shouldn’t worry about something like that, it’s Carolyn’s business after all and you’re ill and need the therapy. That’s life. She either puts our work around it or has to get a relieve pilot. I don’t really care. Let’s just see where we go from here, alright? No pressure,” interrupted Douglas Martin’s jabbering.

“Alright.” Martin smiled grateful and popped another bit of sushi into his mouth. This was really delicious, Douglas was a fantastic cook. He didn’t think twice about the food and if he deserved it or not.

*

Later that evening Douglas realised that the boundaries of their friendship blurred. Martin was sitting next to him on the couch whilst they watched another James Bond movie, slightly leaning against him with their thighs pressing together. It all started on the night they spent in Athens when they fell asleep next to each other. Their personal space wasn’t really personal anymore, they hugged, they sat close on the couch, Martin sometimes tucked his feet under Douglas’ thigh or would lean against his shoulder and he even was allowed to kiss him on the forehead now. Douglas smiled to himself when he realised that Martin’s eyelids got heavier and his breathing evened out. With every passing minute his head fell a little more to the side till he finally rested it on Douglas’ shoulder, fast asleep. This was more than Douglas could hope for. A sleeping Martin was a comfortable Martin, a safe Martin. He heavy-heartedly tore his eyes away from the man on his shoulder and tried to follow the movie. He couldn’t wake him just now, he wanted to stay like this a little longer, unaware of all the problems, of all the terrible things, waiting outside this flat. He lived for these unguarded moments.

When the movie finally ended and Douglas tried his best not to fall asleep too, he knew that it was time to wake up Martin. They couldn’t stay like this the whole night or they would both regret it in the morning. He carefully tugged a lock of Martin’s hair behind his ear and whispered his name into it. The other man’s eyes fluttered and finally opened a bit. He looked confused for a few seconds before he remembered where he was and that he must have fallen asleep on Douglas. With an apologetic expression he lifted his head from Douglas’ shoulder and stretched his limbs. 

“Sorry I had to wake you, but I’m knackered and should really go to bed,” explained Douglas.

“Yeah... yeah... sure, no problem, I should go, too,” replied Martin and looked unsure around the room. Douglas didn’t know if there was something Martin wanted to tell him, something important, but when Martin stayed silent for another minute he got off the couch and went to his bathroom to get ready for bed. There was no use in pressing answers from him, if he had something on his mind he would hopefully tell Douglas at one point. With a yawn and rubbing his eyes, Douglas dressed into his pyjamas and got under his duvet.

A few relaxed minutes later Douglas heard shuffling from behind his closed door. He wondered for a short time if he dreamt that sound, but when he heard a tentative knock he knew that this was really happening. The door opened and Martin, only dressed in his usual pyjama bottom and a t-shirt, stuck his head inside Douglas’ room. Douglas just raised an eyebrow and waited for Martin to tell him what was wrong, if he needed anything.

“Douglas... I hope I didn’t wake you up... It’s just... And I know this sounds incredibly stupid and immature and I want to be neither, but I just have to ask... No let me explain this first. The therapy was really hard for me. You know I don’t talk about this much, especially not with strangers. But I did today. I talked about so much and I just feel so utterly drained right now. I know my request is highly inappropriate but we already shared a bed in Athens and that was really comforting and I just hoped that maybe... m... maybe I could just... stay here for the night... Just this one night, no strings attached, just sharing a bed, you know...” stammered Martin and was glad that he didn’t turn on the lights so he was able to hide his blush.

Douglas hid a smile and just raised his duvet without saying anything. Martin didn’t need words; he needed comfort, warmth, and a strong chest to lean against. The basic human contact everyone longs for. Martin climbed into the bed next to Douglas and slumped against the second pillow. This was better, far better than his own room. He slid a little closer to Douglas and placed a careful hand on his chest, right above his heart. Martin closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the heart beat underneath, the lulling sound which slowly made him drift off to sleep.

“What was so hard today?” asked Douglas almost soundlessly into the silence after a few minutes and Martin startled back into awareness.

“We talked about why I didn’t leave for the job at Swiss Air,” whispered Martin back. He didn’t tell Douglas right away about this, the moment just didn’t feel right over dinner. But now it was fine, now they were together, close and almost asleep.

“And?” Douglas prompted and covered Martin’s hand with his own to show him that he was there, no matter what.

“Because of you,” Martin confessed and was already drifting back to sleep. Douglas wasn’t sure if this statement should make him happy or sad.  Martin could have had a better life, a well paid and honourable job, but he stayed in Fitton. For someone like him. Martin was young, he could have picked so many people to be with, yet he chose Douglas; old, three times divorced, pompous Douglas. Douglas tried not to think too much about it. It was Martin’s decision, he made it six months ago and there was no going back now. He admitted to himself that he was secretly glad about that. He didn’t want to be anywhere else or with anybody else right now. No matter how tough things were, he belonged here, in bed with Martin, cocooned in the warmth of the other body pressed against his own. 


	9. Chapter 9

“Is something wrong?” Douglas asked a couple of days later as he walked into the living room where Martin sat on the couch with his mobile phone in his hand. He quickly gave him a hug from behind the sofa and a kiss atop of his curls. With satisfaction he observed that Martin didn’t tense up or withdrew so he was still fine with Douglas touching him. Douglas didn’t want to assume that the other man with fine with physical contact, he knew that Martin’s moods and willingness to open up would vary and he was fine with testing the boundaries of their friendship (relationship? He wasn’t sure anymore) every day.

He was aware that Martin still had days where he felt like he couldn’t leave his bed. Days where he slept for more than 12 hours and still felt tired. He always tried to lure him into the living room or out for a short walk, just to break his dark moods. Today Martin got up early, earlier than Douglas which was unexpected.  Something must have happened.

“My mother called...” Martin murmured as he shot his phone an annoyed look.

“What did she want?” Douglas smirked at his captain’s reaction. A sulking Martin was somehow, in lack of a better word to describe the man in front of him, adorable. He pouted slightly which only reminded Douglas how beautiful Martin’s mouth was, his perfectly formed his cupid bow, his full and kissable his lower lip.

“She invited me to dinner tonight. Caitlin and Simon will be there. I.... Ugh, they’re my family but I don’t know if I can stand them now!” Martin exclaimed agitated and ripped Douglas out of his train of thoughts.

“I could accompany you,” suggested the latter carefully.

“Would you?”

“Well, you know how I am, I never decline a decent meal,” Douglas explained with a wink. Martin smirked at him and texted a quick message to his mother, saying that he will be there and would bring someone along. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for Douglas’ presence yet again. The man showed him nothing but support and patience these last couple of days, Martin wasn’t sure how he managed it. They knew each other for five years and although his feelings towards him were strong, he never dared to hope for such a development. He knew he was still not at his best again, but he tried. And if that implied to talk with his family and be honest with them, then he would not run away. And who knows, maybe they would understand, maybe they would be there for him.

*

“Oh, look, it’s Martin!” Wendy exclaimed delightfully and hugged her son tightly to her chest. “Hello love, it’s so good to see you! Oh and you brought your co-pilot with you. When you wrote that you would bring someone, I assumed that we would meet your new girlfriend.”

“No, mum, no girlfriend,” Martin murmured into his mothers shoulder. Douglas just smiled charmingly and shook her hand.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? You’ll find someone eventually,” Wendy said and stepped away from the door to let her guests in. Martin shot Douglas a quick smile and rolled his eyes before he followed his mother into the dining room, where Caitlin was already sitting in her usual spot. Martin loved her dearly, they fought and competed sometimes, but after all she was his only sister. He quickly took a seat next to her and offered the chair on his other side to Douglas.

 “You weren’t at the church two weeks ago... You know it was the day of your father’s death,” Wendy remarked as she sat down opposite Martin. Douglas narrowed his eyes in thought. They didn’t talk much about his father, but he was aware that he never approved of his Captain’s choices and his ambition to become a pilot. Martin told him once how frustrated he was that his father died before he became a real pilot, before he saw that all of his work was worth it. It seemed oddly fitting that Martin decided to end his own life the same date his father died.

“Yes, Mum, I’m sorry!” Martin apologized and stared at his hands in his lap. He realised that he hadn’t talk with Douglas about this and turned around to see if he was mad or disappointed. But all he saw were soft eyes connecting with his own, the little smile on his lips and a quick nod of his head which told him not to worry. Martin let out  a breath he wasn’t aware of holding. He couldn’t help but think again how lucky he was to have such an understanding and supportive co-pilot, friend, perhaps even future partner.

“It doesn’t matter, you’re here now. That’s all that matters to me,” Wendy replied warm-heartily as she grabbed her son’s hands over the table and gave him a squeeze.

“You look horrible!” Caitlin interrupted and eyed her brother up with a suspicious look on her face.

“What do you mean?” Martin asked and shuffled in his chair.

“Well, you look like you haven’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. You were always thin, but god Martin, please don’t tell me you tried one of those awful Hollywood diets because you definitely don’t need it. I would give a leg to be as thin as you were last time we met. Here, have some bread before dinner, you certainly need it,” his sister explained and shoved the whole basket of bread onto Martin’s plate.

Martin knew that his sister was just trying to be nice and teasing, but as soon as she started to talk about his eating habits his stomach turned. With slightly shaking fingers he grabbed one of the slices and took a bite. There was no way he could decline her offer without raising suspicions. He felt three pairs of eyes carefully watching his every move, how he chewed, how he swallowed. Sweat started to form on his forehead and he shot Douglas a quick and pleading look.

Before he could think much longer about it and the feeling of panic rising in his chest, Douglas grabbed the slice of bread out of his hand and ate the rest. Of course he understood.

“You don’t mind, do you? I am just so terribly hungry and that bread smelled so delicious. Wendy, I have to say, no one in this world can compete with your baking skills,” he said with his most charming voice.

Wendy blushed slightly and smiled at Douglas. Caitlin watched their little exchange, shrugged her shoulders and grabbed a slice of bread for herself, not knowing that she almost caused a disaster. For the next few minutes the three of them engaged in small talk whilst Martin just tried to control his breathing, to calm his stomach and to think of how he should breach the subject of his suicidal thoughts to his family. He couldn’t just say _“Oh, hey mum, you know what? I wanted to kill myself last month. Yeah, no big deal, stupid idea really, no, no worries. Everything is perfectly fine now.”_ He had to do it carefully, he didn’t want to upset his mother, not after her health issues a few months ago. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t a heart attack, that his mother was fine, but still he felt the need to protect her.

His thoughts got interrupted by the door bell and he knew what was coming. Simon. His dear, dear brother Simon. He was just... different. Rough, harsh, he didn’t want to cause real harm, but his words often hurt nonetheless.  Before he could prepare himself for Simon’s “welcome”, he felt strong arms grabbing him around the waist, urging him to stand from his chair and pulling him up like he used to do it all his life. Douglas saw how his captain’s back tensed and his face pulled into a frown. He clearly didn’t like it. Martin tried his best not to panic again. He knew that his brother was like that, that he didn’t think about Martin’s feelings. Yet he hoped that Simon would give him some space. Some peace.

“That’s enough, let him down!” Douglas demanded and got up from his chair to emphasise his request.

“Oh look Martin, your overprotective co-pilot comes to your rescue! How romantic!” Simon laughed and clapped Douglas on the shoulder.

“It’s not like that,” Martin protested and tried to hide his face in his hands. This really didn’t go according to plan.

“Why did you bring him along then?” asked Simon with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Because your brother had a hard time and I wanted to support him,” Douglas explained calmly. There was no use in starting a fight, Martin wouldn’t approve. He just hoped that Martin wouldn’t backpedal now.

“What does Douglas mean with that, love? Are you ill? Or sad? I thought you were fine after your breakup with Theresa,” Wendy asked with a worried look on her face.

“No, mum. I’m not really ill and I really am fine with the breakup... What he tried to tell you is that I’m... not really 100% happy at the moment in general and... I’m in therapy... ” confessed Martin and looked ashamed at his hands. Now he said it. Now his family knew how weak he really was.

“WHAT?” Caitlin exclaimed and took her mother’s hand. Martin looked helplessly in Douglas’ direction, but he just shrugged his shoulders with a little comforting smile on his lips. This was Martin’s turn. He had made it this far, he could go a little further. Simon stood awkwardly near Douglas and didn’t know how to react. He just wanted to make a quick joke about Martin’s love life like he always did but apparently Martin didn’t find it funny at all. He glanced at the worried look on Douglas’ face and wondered if there was really more to their relationship. Maybe he shouldn’t have joked about it. Maybe his brother needed their support now.

“Yes... I’ve just started and I only went a few times but... I want you to know, cause you’re my family and families should know about things like that,” Martin explained carefully and hoped that they would just drop the subject.

“Why do you go there, love?” Wendy asked with a concerned frown on her face and reached her hand out to Martin.

“I... I may have been a little down lately. Dad’s van broke down too often, I didn’t have any money, I lost the flat... Douglas offered me to stay in his flat...”

“That’s very nice of you,” interrupted Wendy. He shot Douglas a grateful smile before she turned back to her son. “But why didn’t you ask me for help?”

“Mum, you helped me all my life. You always paid for my dream to become a pilot. It was only fair to deal with this one my own now,” Martin answered.

“I know that you want to deal with things like that on your own, you were always so proud...” Wendy smiled weakly. “But Martin, we’re your family. You should come to us first. I’m sure Douglas doesn’t want you to stay at his flat forever.”

“Actually, Wendy, I wouldn’t mind that,” Douglas murmured and avoided to meet Martin’s eyes. He just confessed his illness to his family, he shouldn’t feel pressured to move out. Wendy looked up from Martin and met Douglas’ eyes with a soft and knowing smile. Douglas couldn’t help but feel like he’d just passed some sort of test. Maybe he underestimated Martin’s mother. Maybe she saw more than he thought.

“It’s... It’s not just that...” whispered Martin and all eyes turned back to him, waiting. “It’s not a normal therapy... It’s... And mum please don’t worry but I need to tell you all of it now... It’s a centre for suicide prevention.”

For a short moment there was no sound at all. Everyone expect Martin, who let out a relieved sigh, held their breath. In the end it was Simon who, surprisingly, broke the silence with a low “Oh my God”. He took a tentative step towards the table and dropped his hand carefully to Martin’s shoulder to communicate his silent support. Martin shot him a short and grateful look over his shoulder before he turned around to his mother to see her reaction. She still held tightly to his and his sister’s hand and opened her mouth, but no words seemed to form. Douglas could see the how Martin’s back straightened and how he wiped his forehead with his free hand anxiously. He felt the urgent need to be at Martin’s side, to support him with his physical presence, but he was aware that this was a Crieff-family moment and he didn’t want to intrude on it.

Wendy’s stunned silence broke with a long and shaky exhale. She gave Martin’s hand a squeeze and a careful smile in his direction.

“But Martin... Why would you... Did you want to commit suicide?” she asked at last.

“I thought about it. I also... kind of... planned it. But Douglas... He found out, and... and he was there for me and helped me to stand up again and then I realised that I still have some things to live for, some things to keep fighting for, so I decided that I probably need professional help and I went and it’s weird and awkward but it’s also kind of good to talk about everything and my therapist... she told me that I have a depression and gave me medication for it and they have some side effects but they’re also helping me to get up in the morning and I know these things take time and I’m not back to before but... I don’t know...” Martin rushed out. He couldn’t stop the flow of his words, he needed to get it out, to tell them the whole story.

“Oh Martin,” Caitlin whispered and took Martin’s free hand. “I am so proud of you.”

“ _What_?” Martin asked with a confused frown.

“I am. Martin, you were always so proud, and you always tried so hard, on your own. You never wanted help and you never wanted to admit your weaknesses. And now here you are, with a person you trust and who supports you, and you were honest with us. I am so so proud, little brother,” Caitlin explained with tears in her eyes.

“We are all proud of you,” Wendy agreed and turned towards Douglas, who still stood a little on the side. “Come over here, Douglas. You saved my son, you are now a part of the family.”

“Thank you, but Martin actually saved himself. I only played a minor role in all of this. Martin is the strong one, I only gave him a home and some food for the last two weeks,” Douglas countered softly. He nevertheless stepped closer to the table and sat back down beside Martin, whilst giving him a quick squeeze just above the knee in the process.

“You did far more than that and you know it,” Martin muttered and looked at Douglas with such an obvious adoration in his eyes that Douglas had to hold his breath and control himself not to kiss the man right there and then. His family had enough to deal with now with Martin’s confession, the change in their relationship was secondary.

“Wait... Two weeks?” Wendy interrupted the tension between them. “But Martin, please tell me this had nothing to do with your father.”

 “No... Not directly... It’s just... Dad was always so disapproving of everything I’ve ever done, and I didn’t want to do it because of him, but when I realised that I couldn’t carry on anymore it was a week before the day he died and I thought...” he trailed of, uncertain.

“Oh love, your father was a great man, but he was also very narrow-minded. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just had different views on life and what to do with it. Don’t let it get you down. I’m sure he would be proud to see you in your uniform and of... whatever else you decide to do with your life,” Wendy said and looked pointedly to and fro between Martin and Douglas, communicating her silent support. Douglas smiled, yes, he definitely underestimated Martin’s mother. He was glad that they had her understanding, her support, her love. At least Martin needn’t worry about this in his decision concerning their relationship.

Martin smiled weakly, but Douglas knew that it was a genuine smile. He did it. He faced his family and made it through. It was only a normal evening, a dinner with Martin’s family, yet it felt like a huge milestone in his recovery.

“And if you ever need help, or an open ear, or just a hug, you can always call me, all right? I know we’re not really close most of the time, but I’m your big sister and I’m always there for you,” Caitlin added and shot Simon a quick look which caused him to murmur “Same... I mean... The same goes for me.”

Martin’s smile broadened further.

*

“That went well,” Douglas said softly as they entered his flat a few hours later. Martin nodded in agreement, it really did. He was so afraid of his mother’s reaction, of Caitlin and Simon’s teasing, yet he only received love and support. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was to think that they would hate him because of his weakness. He was human, he was allowed to fall down. He had to think about his therapist and what she should say to his development this evening. If this was the right way back up again, if this was an important step towards being himself again. A look in Douglas’ direction answered his questions. He saw nothing but admiration in his eyes and how proud Douglas was. Proud because of him, of what he said, what he did, how he managed. Yes, this was the right path and he would continue as best as he could.

Yawning and still with a little smile on his face, Martin went to the bathroom and got changed for the night whilst Douglas already settled into his bed. Without a second thought he entered Douglas’ bedroom and crawled into the space next to Douglas, before he turned off the light and whispered “Good Night”. Douglas couldn’t help but smile at the thought that sharing a bed seemed like a normal thing for them to do now, before he pressed a quick kiss to Martin’s curls and closed his eyes, more relaxed than he could remember ever being.   


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story will be unbeta'd from here on. If you find anything, please let me know. Thank you!

“Client Eastwood – Old west action”

“Good, very good indeed… Umm…”

“Alec Baldwin – Balance wild”

“Oh yeah that sounds great… But give me a chance here… Umm…”

Suddenly the intercom bing-bonged and Arthur chipped in: “Chaps, mum wants me to tell you: Vin Diesel - Veiled sin.”

“Yes, good one. So, three points for me, two for Carolyn and oh, still no points for you, Martin.”

“I know… Wait, I’ve got one: Jason Statham – Satan jam shot!”

“Satan jam shot? That’s not even bad. Well done, Captain!”

“Chaps, I don’t want to seem stupid or anything, but what are you doing?”

“Actor’s anagrams, Arthur.”

Douglas flashed a quick smile in Martin’s direction, who was really concentrated on finding another anagram. But of course, there was no way his co-pilot and whatever-the-hell-it-was-now would be able to beat him in any word game. It never happened. All of a sudden Martin’s face lit up and he said self-confidently:

“Wait, I’ve got another one: Leonardo DiCaprio – A calorie did porno!”

“Oh Martin, you’re on fire! What happened to you?!”

The flight door flew open and Carolyn stepped in.

“Oh wipe those smug grins off your faces. I am not going to lose this, especially not to _Martin_!”

“Well you better think of something fast. The game ends in… exactly 30 seconds.”

The flight deck fell into silence whilst Carolyn and Martin tried their best to come up with another anagram and Douglas just smiled to himself. This was the best part of word games. Seeing how his colleagues got all agitated and concentrated at the end just to beat him. Beat the sky god, the master of all word games. He couldn’t believe his luck, after many months of complete silence and six weeks of Martin trying to be cheerful, but not quite managing it yet. And now he was back. Maybe not quite the old Martin, but that didn’t matter. If Douglas had to choose between the old Martin and the one sitting next to him now, his decision would be clear: Martin was perfect now. He looked better, healthier, happier, more secure in his abilities and more aware of how strong he really was. Douglas’ grin grew even wider and he took another look at his watch. 5 seconds. There was no way anybody could beat him now.

“Emma Watson – Steam Woman. And I believe the time is up,” Martin exclaimed and clapped his hands together in utter joy.

“God, Sir, seems like the game ended in a draw. You’re actually good at anagrams, who would have guessed?”

“Yes, Douglas, thank you for reminding me that I am, in fact, not good at anything – apart from anagrams. What a bright future must lie ahead for me with this exceptionally important skill,” Martin said but grinned in Douglas’ direction to tell him wordlessly that this was only a joke.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Douglas is getting old; soon you will be able to beat him in anything,” Carolyn chuckled.

“HEY! It’s not like you…”

“Don’t even think of finishing that sentence, Douglas, or I will punch you till you cry like a little girl.”

“Always a pleasure to fly with you, Carolyn.”

“You’re too kind, but if you will stop these shenanigans now and do what I pay you for, I would be most grateful,” Carolyn grinned and stepped back to the passengers they had to fly to Berlin for an exhibition. Arthur clapped his hands together and followed his mother to make some coffee for the crew.

“So... I’ve actually managed to not lose against you...” Martin said and raised an eyebrow without taking his eyes off the control board.

“Yes, but you’ve also not won, so I guess it’s not that much of a success,” Douglas replied mockingly.

“I don’t mind being your equal,” Martin murmured whilst reaching across to his First Officer to take his hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

“You were my equal long before this game,” Douglas smiled softly and squeezed back. Neither of them wanted to let go again, although they were aware that holding hands wasn’t something they usually did. Yes, they slept in the same bed regularly now, they sat close together whilst watching TV, and Douglas sometimes dropped kisses on Martin’s forehead or the top of his head. But hand holding was new. And another step into the relationship Douglas wanted more than anything. They didn’t realise how long they sat like this, slightly turned towards each other, eyes locked and soft, and their hands clasped together in the space between their seats, until the flight deck door flew open again and Carolyn reappeared with two cups of coffee in her hands.

“Am I... interrupting something?” she asked with a stern look towards Douglas.

“No... no... thank you for the coffee,” Martin stuttered with a burning red face and turned back towards the window in front of him, his hand letting go of Douglas and reaching for the coffee.

“All right... whatever,” Carolyn muttered and quickly left again. Douglas took a sip of his coffee and wasn’t sure if he should feel angry for Carolyn’s interruption or happy because Martin finally opened up to him.

*

Martin smiled to himself as he landed the plane safely and felt the rush of excitement he used to feel _before_. He was okay. He felt okay. He did what he always wanted to do, flying, being a pilot, and he actually got paid for it now. And he also was with the man he loved, right by his side.

Two months earlier he would have never thought that his life could be like that again. And he knew that he should feel nothing but happy and carefree, but there was still doubt niggling at him. He wasn’t a lucky man. If something went well, there was always something bad waiting just around the corner for him. He was pretty confident that his depression was under control, the medication worked wonders and the therapy plan helped to keep him going. He hadn’t had a day where he wasn’t even able to leave the bed for four weeks now. So if it wasn’t his illness which would cause the trouble, it had to be something from the outside.

He carefully looked at Douglas who was silently doing the post-landing check. He was so grateful for Douglas’ support and his will to wait for him. But he couldn’t help but feel frustrated sometimes. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for a relationship just yet, and he wasn’t sure how long he could make Douglas hold out on him. And he couldn’t lose him, not only because he lived with him but also for far more personal reasons. He liked to be around him. He liked to watch stupid TV shows with him. And yes, he also liked to eat with him, no matter if it was breakfast whilst he was still sleepy and grumpy or a lovely dinner with good conversation. It was all fine, as long as Douglas was around and gave him one of his charming smiles.

If something could go wrong, it was this. Their fragile equilibrium, the life they’ve build over the last five years and intensified over the last two months. It was dangerous. And yet... he couldn’t turn back to just being friends. Martin shook his head to get rid of these thoughts. He worried too much. He always thought every worst-case-scenario through and it didn’t do him any good.

“Are you doing the paperwork today?” Douglas asked into Martin’s thoughts.

“Um... yes... if you don’t mind,” Martin stammered startled. He was so deep buried in his own mind that he almost forgot that the man he just thought about was still sitting by his side, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

“No... I’ll help you,” Douglas smiled reassuringly and left the flight deck. Martin quickly collected his bag and followed him to the portacabin, where Carolyn and Arthur were already seated in their chairs, Carolyn searching through some papers scattered on her desk, Arthur playing some sort of quiz game on his phone making displeased sounds every now and then. Martin sat down at his own desk, took the paperwork out and began filling it in minutely.

As soon as Carolyn saw Douglas sitting down next to Martin, she stood and walked over to them.

“Douglas, can I have a word please? Outside?” she asked with a frown on her face. Martin looked from Carolyn to Douglas and couldn’t help wondering what was going on. Did he do something wrong? Did Douglas do something bad? Illegal? Were they in trouble? With a quick and soothing smile in Martin’s direction Douglas got up and followed Carolyn wordlessly outside and a few steps away from the portacabin.

“So, Carolyn, care to tell me what has you in such a bad mood today? Is it because you’ve lost the game?” Douglas asked charmingly.

“No... Douglas... I’ve known you for over ten years now...” Carolyn began hesitatingly. “I’ve known you at your best and I’ve known you at your worst. I’ve seen you pulling stewardesses, I’ve seen you getting married, I’ve seen you getting divorced. I’ve seen it all. But I have no idea whatsoever what is going on between you and Martin right now, so if you could enlighten me...”

“There is nothing going on with Martin and me,” Douglas countered but only received a raised eyebrow and an unbelieving expression.

“I know that you’re living together in your flat currently. So please allow me to ask: Are you living together, or are you, you know, _living_ _together?”_

“What are you trying to imply? You never talk around the bush, just tell me what you have to say,” Douglas replied with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“One has to be blind to miss what’s going on in the flight deck. You two are flirting. You’re always looking at each other, with love struck faces, really, it’s obvious. So I have to ask you this: What do you want from Martin?”

“Whatever he is willing to give,” Douglas replied softly and averted his eyes.

“Douglas, you know that Martin is like a son to me, you know he’s vulnerable right now, you can’t use him for whatever little game you have planned at the moment,” Carolyn whisper-shouted at him.

“Do you... Are you... Carolyn, I would never...” Douglas trailed off. He just couldn’t believe that Carolyn thought so poorly of him.

“This is probably the first time I’ve seen you speechless,” she replied calmer, apparently satisfied by his genuine puzzlement.

“No... Carolyn, I don’t think you realise what I feel for Martin. He’s... I really like him, all right? I think I’ve liked him for quite some time now, he makes me better, he complements me. And I was reserved at the beginning. Martin needed a friend, not someone who tried to get into his pants at his lowest moment. And I gave him that. And now we’re finally getting somewhere, we’re finally making some progress, slowly, but surely, and you’re telling me I play a stupid game with him? After everything I’ve done for him? After everything we’ve been through? I can’t believe it,” Douglas defended himself, clearly agitated.

“Okay, calm down, I just... There are two issues here. As your friend, I wish you all the best, I really do. As your boss, I don’t know if I can be quite as generous. I have a lot to lose if you decide in a month or two that this isn’t your thing, being with a man and such, or that Martin is more work than you thought. I need you both, and I need you at your best. I need you on good terms and I can’t afford some domestic quarrels on my plane, or even worse one of you leaving if this doesn’t work out. I need you to think this through, I need you to be sure. Can you do that?” Carolyn asked.

Douglas took a deep breath and let it out slowly to fight the anger rising inside of him. Why couldn’t she understand? Why was he the bad one? Yes, he might have been married three times and each time failed, but this was Martin. It didn’t matter that he was a man. This was different.

“Carolyn, I’ve thought about little else for the last two months, I am sure. I love him. And he loves me. We’ll be fine...”

Carolyn looked startled for a moment. She clearly didn’t expect Douglas to say those words. But he was sure, he loved him, there was no turning back now. She sighed and her shoulders slumped a little and Douglas knew that he had convinced her.

“You have to be careful with him.”

“I know.”

“He’s just gotten better.”

“I _know_.”

“You have to watch out for his heart. Don’t break it. Whatever you do, don’t break his heart or I will hunt you down and I will do unspeakable things to you.”

“I will watch out for his heart as long as he wants me to, Carolyn. I won’t hurt him,” Douglas almost whispered and held her eyes. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t playing a game.

“All right. Then you have my blessing...” Carolyn replied and the frown on her face finally disappeared and got replaced by a small smile. Douglas nodded once and turned around to get back into the portacabin to Martin.

*

“What did she want?” Martin asked carefully on their way to Douglas’ car after the paperwork was finished.

“She wanted to know what’s going on between us and told me not to break your heart,” Douglas replied and shot his co-pilot a bemused look. “No need to worry, I told her that I will do my very best to keep you happy.”

“But we’re not even together like that!” Martin protested and the tips of his ears turned into an alarming shade of pink. He quickly turned a bit away to hide his embarrassment but Douglas saw it nevertheless. Slightly smirking he laid his hand on Martin’s forearm and squeezed once, urging him to look him in the eyes and stop walking.

“Not yet,” he breathed.

Martin stopped mid-stride and turned fully towards Douglas with a baffled expression. He searched Douglas’ eyes, and Douglas was glad to see that whatever Martin found in them eased the tension in him a bit. He saw how Martin’s shoulders slowly relaxed and how he bit on his lower lip, trying to hide a smile, but failing. With the biggest and most honest smile Douglas had ever seen on Martin’s face, he replied tenderly:

“Yes... not yet.”


	11. Chapter 11

Martin woke up with a pained groan coming from deep inside his chest, feeling utterly awful and still so very tired. He grabbed for his alarm clock, missed a few times, before he finally managed to hold it in front of his face to squint at the glowing numbers. 11:17 am. He had slept more than 12 hours. And yet he wanted nothing more than to turn around and grant his body a few more hours of sleep. He faintly heard the sound of Douglas rummaging around in the kitchen, probably preparing breakfast for him. But he couldn’t get up. Not now, anyway. Just a few hours more...

A soft knock on the bedroom door interrupted his attempt to go back to sleep and Douglas appeared in the doorway with a concerned look on his face.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“No... Tired...” Martin grunted and disappeared a bit more under Douglas’ heavy duvet.

“It’s a bad day, isn’t it?” Douglas asked even more carefully now.

“No, I’m fine, go away,” Martin muttered sulkily and turned completely away from the man at the door.

“If you plan to sulk, you should at least move to the living room, you could sleep on the sofa. And you should at least have a slice of toast.”

“Why do you always think you know better?” Martin complained and shot Douglas a venomous look over his shoulder.

“I don’t...”

“Then leave me alone,” he decided and closed his eyes. Yes, this was better. Darkness. Now he could sleep.

Douglas silently closed the door behind him and rubbed at his eyes. He knew that there would be up and downs in Martin’s recovery. But he was doing just fine yesterday. He hadn’t had a bad day for more than six weeks now, and Douglas had to admit that he had gotten used to it. But there was no use in worrying too much; he had to believe that Martin would get out of this mood eventually. Hopefully sooner than later, Douglas thought with a pained smile.

*  
The bedroom door opened slowly a few hours later and Martin appeared in the living room, still only wearing his pyjamas and wrapped up inside Douglas’ duvet, looking weary. The late afternoon sun glowed softly inside the room, coating every surface in a warm shade of orange.

“Do you feel better now?” Douglas asked and hoped he wouldn’t push too far.

“Kind of... Douglas, look, I wanted to apologise,” Martin replied quietly and sat down on the sofa next to his co-pilot.

“There is nothing to apologise for, Martin. If you’re tired, you can sleep as long as you want. It wasn’t my place to judge. I just sometimes forget that you’re still recovering...”

“I want you to forget,” Martin interrupted. “I like it, when we sit here and talk like nothing has happened. When you forget, I sometimes forget it, too. And I need that, I can’t think about it every second, I think about it far too much as it is, I always worry, and it hurts me when I think about how I am hurting you...”

“You’re not hurting me, Martin,” Douglas countered and took Martin’s hand in his to show him his ongoing support.

“Of course I am, don’t pretend otherwise... You are always there for me, you hold me when I’m feeling down, you even let me sleep in your bed and you get nothing in return.”

“Martin, you can’t mean that. I’m getting to spend my time with you in return, that’s good enough for me. I’ve told you I’m waiting till you’re feeling better and know what you want and I meant it. You put too much pressure on yourself,” Douglas replied and shifted a bit closer to the man next to him.

“It’s been almost three months, Douglas,” Martin complained, let his head fall into his hands and tugged forcefully on his curls. “I _am_ better now. And I know that I want you, I just can’t... I don’t know what’s holding me back, why... why I can’t just let it happen, but there’s always doubt in me; this voice in my head telling me that I’m going to ruin it all, that you’ll be angry, that you’ll leave and I don’t know how to convince myself that... that this could work...”

Martin trailed off and Douglas saw the tension in his shoulders, the grip of his hands in his hair, he heard his voice breaking and how Martin took a deep breath. He should say something, anything at all, to show Martin that it would be all right. But he couldn’t think of anything. He had said it all before, told him that he would stay, that they would make it through Martin’s depression together. There was nothing left, no magic-phrase to take all of his co-pilot’s doubts away.

Well, if he couldn’t think of anything to say, he had to convince Martin the only other way he knew: By action. He grabbed Martin’s wrists in his hands and slowly lowered them from his face. Martin looked up, a question forming on his lips, but Douglas interrupted him by touching his forehead to Martin’s brow, his eyes shifting to the other man’s lips for a second, intention clear without using words. He saw how Martin seemed even more confused for a few seconds, before he suddenly locked startled eyes with him. His shoulder’s tensed some more, his back straightened and a he exhaled heavily.

“Douglas?” He could feel Martin’s breath on his face, could sense his fear, but he felt like he had to do this, just once.

“Please, if you decide that this isn’t working for you anymore, please, just let me try this first...” He whispered and pulled a few centimetres away to search Martin’s eyes. He wouldn’t force him. If he decided now that he didn’t want to do this, Douglas would respect his limits. As soon as he saw Martin taking another deep breath and deliberately relaxing his muscles before nodding sharply to communicate his consent, he closed the remaining distance between them and connected his lips with Martin’s in a soft and careful kiss. He didn’t want to scare him away now. This felt too much like a victory, no matter how small.

Douglas tried to ignore the uncomfortable position they were in, sitting next to each other on the sofa, not really touching expect for their lips and Martin’s wrists still firmly held in his hands, and how Martin seemed to be frozen on the spot, not really knowing how to react. But he could wait for him to relax, even if it killed his neck, even if it would take hours. There were finally making progression in their relationship.

Martin’s system seemed to slowly reboot and he freed his wrists from Douglas’ grip, settling one hand carefully on Douglas’ waist and the other to the arm of the sofa to ground himself. Douglas searched his brain for all the little tricks he knew to relax Martin, but his brain had discarded every other kiss he ever experienced and he lost himself in the feeling of Martin’s full lips on his own. His own hands were moving freely over every part he could reach now, hair, nape of his neck, chest, waist, before he buried one in his Captain’s curls and the other on the juncture where his shoulder met his neck, his fingers carefully stroking the exposed skin. Their kiss was still tentative, lips barely moving, eyes shut. Douglas wondered if Martin had much experience with this, if he would be comfortable with taking things a bit further. He pulled away to see if Martin was all right with this, but as he saw how the other man unconsciously followed his lips to close the distance between them again, he knew that he couldn’t stop if he tried.

They met with another soft brush of lips and Douglas dared to open his mouth just a fraction to capture Martin’s lower lip between his, which earned him a quiet noise of approval. They spend minutes, hours, who knew how long, capturing and recapturing their lips, each time a bit more confident, until Martin was completely melted against the sofa, Douglas leaning over him, all without losing contact between them.

And yes, Douglas thought, he was a brave man and he wouldn’t stop now, so he touched his tongue gently to the corner of Martin’s mouth, just to test his reaction. When he didn’t feel him tense or pull away, he redoubled his efforts and plunged his tongue cautiously into his Captain’s mouth, holding his breath. At the first touch of Martin’s tongue to his, he decided that this wasn’t the time to think, to doubt, to calculate the other man’s reaction and so he let go, tasting, exploring, only breaking away for air every now and then.

When they finally broke away from each other, breathless, with hooded eyes and hands still roaming over their backs, necks and arms, Douglas knew that his experiment was successful.  He leaned his forehead against Martin’s and chuckled softly.

“It seems I was wrong again, Douglas... That wasn’t bad,” Martin whispered, as if afraid that his voice would break the moment of content for them.

“But it also wasn’t good?” Douglas teased with a small smile on his face.

“No, no... It was good, very good. You just... You give me the feeling... of being safe,” Martin replied, meeting the other man’s smile with a quirk of his own still kiss swollen lips.

“That’s because I love you,” Douglas confessed, realising a moment too late that this was probably way too early.

“I... I...” Martin stuttered, his ears flushing.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he reassured quickly, proving his statement with a soft kiss. When he pulled back, he saw Martin’s lower lip sticking out a bit, pouting, before he protested softly.

“But I want to.”

“Do it when you feel it’s the right time for you,” Douglas hushed his sulking friend (Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Oh God, Douglas thought, please let it be something else than friend) and Martin’s quiet agreement was lost in another touch of lips.

Douglas couldn’t help but marvel at how natural this seemed. Their kisses were new and thrilling, yet felt like something they had been doing for years. They fitted together like they were made for this, like everything they’ve done over the last three months was just a prelude to this moment. He got a bit carried away, his hands still exploring, when he suddenly found himself kissing down Martin’s neck. He got rewarded by Martin panting above him, making little unintentional noises from the back of his throat and being pulled even closer, their bodies flush against each other. This was... unexpected. He didn’t think that a bit of harmless snogging would get Martin in such a state. He seemed completely lost in his head, unaware of what was happening around him and of Douglas’ hesitance.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. He slowly untangled his hands from Martin’s hair and reached for the first button of Martin’s pyjama top, revealing a pale patch of skin underneath. He let out a hot breath against the other’s collarbone, marvelling at how far they’ve come this evening, before he lowered his head to kiss his way from Martin’s neck to his sternum.

A sudden intake of breath made him look up from the lovely chest in front of him, only to see how Martin’s eyes were wide open as if in shock and how he held himself very still. His hands slowly fell away from Douglas’ back and clenched into fists.

“Do you want to have sex?” Martin blurted suddenly into the silence and averted his eyes. His face, chest and ears flushed a deep shade of red, which only seemed to agitate him some more.

“ _What_?” Douglas asked bewildered. “Why do you ask that? Do _you_ want to have sex?”

“I... I don’t... I do not not want to have sex... in general... It’s just that I... Gosh, I am making a mess out of this... I want you, like that, but... I don’t know... I’ve put on some weight since I moved in and I guess I look a bit healthier now than three months ago but I still don’t look _good_ , and I want to look good when you see me... like that... What if you don’t like what you see? What if... No, sorry, I’m worrying too much again... I don’t make much sense now, sorry, I just...” He trailed off, uncertain.

“You’re not comfortable with the idea just now,” Douglas suggested, trying to lighten the mood again.

“I... I guess...” Martin stammered, still clearly embarrassed by the admission of his weakness.

“Martin. I’ve told you before and I will tell you again: There is no need to rush any of this. Take your time,” Douglas reassured him and lifted his hands off of Martin’s chest to underline his statement. “But just so you know, I really really do like what I see right now, and you can be certain that I will like whatever you hide underneath all that.”

“It’s just... you have been so patient and we’ve avoided this so long and I feel like I...”

“You don’t owe me anything, if this was how you planned to end your sentence,” Douglas interrupted with a slight frown on his face, which caused Martin to backpedal.

“No... Not owing... but... I want to make you feel good, too.”

“Oh Martin, you do, by just being here and trying this with me,” Douglas husked, his fingers combing through Martin’s curls and pressing warm lips to his temple. “Let me make a suggestion, but feel free to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable: What if we start by moving to the bedroom, getting rid of this pyjama top, and I show you that I am not only great at word games, but also at massaging?”

Martin only managed a quick nod in response.

*

“Should I just... lie down?” Martin asked carefully.

“I am just going to grab a few things first, but yes, you could shed your shirt and lie down on your front, all right?” Douglas smiled in a soothing way. They were in their bedroom. Their bedroom. He liked the sound of that. Nevertheless he wanted to give Martin some privacy, undressing in front of him would probably make him even more aware of his doubts. He quietly left the room to fetch the massage oil and placed the bottle into a bowl of warm water. This massage had to be perfect so even the temperature of the oil had to be just right. Slightly heated. Pleasant. He quickly changed into his own pyjamas, not only to be more comfortable himself, but also to erase the barrier of his normal clothing, creating a more intimate atmosphere. On his way back he grabbed a soft towel and stopped in front of the door to take a deep breath. He hoped this would work. He hoped to reassure Martin by showing him how much he liked his body, how much he wanted him to be comfortable and happy.

With a quick knock on the door to announce his return, he stepped back into the room and dimmed the light to a more muted level. Martin was lying in the middle of the bed, dressed in only his pyjama pants, nervously clenching and unclenching his hands lying next to his body. Douglas had to stop a moment to take a look at the back usually well hidden underneath the uniform. He was gorgeous. His shoulders were still well toned from his Man with a Van business and his back curved a bit whilst he moved on the bed, emphasised by the soft glow from the lamp.

“All right. Let’s do this, then,” Douglas said and was briefly concerned about how deep and breathy his voice already sounded. He hadn’t even started and yet he was clearly affected by the sight of Martin on his bed, half dressed, trusting him.

Martin only flashed him a quick and slightly strained smile before he let his head fall back into the pillow. With sure strides Douglas crossed the room to put everything he brought on his nightstand, before he settled himself on the bed next to Martin’s torso. He knew that this position would probably feel uncomfortable after a few minutes, but he was also sure that sitting on Martin’s leg was a step too far. He uncapped the bottle, poured some warm oil into his hands, and rested them on the back in front of him. So far, so good. With slightly shaking fingers (and how did that happen, he was Douglas Richardson, for god’s sake) he started to rub the oil into the other man’s upper back, for now avoiding dangerous areas a bit lower. He circled his fingers in a hopefully comforting manner and thumbed every tense muscle he felt on his way, sometimes even knuckled particularly stubborn spots until he was satisfied with the result. He felt how Martin’s breathing became deeper and his shoulders slumped into the mattress, clearly able to relax now.

 With a short reassuring look at Martin’s face, still pressed into his pillow, but somehow softer and more open, he re-oiled his hands and took a few strokes up and down the seemingly never-ending column of Martin’s spine to the little dimples above his tailbone. He eased the pressure on his lower back a bit, there weren’t any tense muscles down there, he just wanted to touch and make the man he loved feel better about himself.

“You’re beautiful,” Douglas breathed, but kept the kneading steadily to distract Martin from saying anything in response. This wasn’t about Douglas; he didn’t need compliments, or declarations of love. His hands swept lightly over Martin’s side, which caused the man to squirm and grunt a little laugh. Ticklish, then. What a nice surprise, maybe he could use that knowledge one day.

He took a deep breath to get back to business when he noticed how the lavender scent of the oil mingled with Martin’s own, creating an utterly intoxicating scent which Douglas almost couldn’t resist. He wanted to burrow his nose in it, in Martin’s hair, his neck, his back. He wondered if it tasted as good as it smelled, but he didn’t dare to test it. One day, he told himself, one day he would be able to do just that and Martin would be fine with it. But today he would go slowly. He tried to convince himself that this was just a normal massage, something he had done hundreds of times, but he knew that he was lying to himself. This was huge. This was an exercise in self confidence for Martin and an opportunity to test his boundaries for Douglas.

“This feels... incredible. Don’t stop,” Martin whispered and Douglas realised how his hands had slowed down and were just resting above Martin’s bottom whilst he was lost in thought. He took the hint and restarted to manipulate every muscle in earnest, pressing the heels of his hands into the strained muscles beside Martin’s spine. He wanted to say so much more. He wanted to tell Martin about everything he liked, from the little birth marks and freckles on his upper back to the dimples of his lower back. But he felt how the stiff muscles in his hands finally loosened up, becoming soft and pliant, and he didn’t dare to break this intimate atmosphere with talking.

A few minutes passed in complete silence, both men enjoying the time together, marvelling at how natural and wonderful skin-on-skin contact felt. When Douglas’ hands finally tired, he swept one more time from the nape of Martin’s neck to his tailbone before he was able to let go and sit back on his heels.

“How do you feel?” he asked, barely loud enough for Martin to hear.

“Really good,” he replied sluggishly.

“Do you want to sleep? You look exhausted,” Douglas suggested and grabbed the towel on his nightstand to wipe some of the remaining oil from Martin’s back. When he looked up he saw how Martin pressed his face back into the pillow, trying to hide his expression, but the tips of his ears were bright red.

“What’s going on?” Douglas demanded to know. They’ve came this far tonight, they were both relaxed and he really didn’t want Martin to tense up again.

“I can’t move away,” Martin explained through his pillow, voice muffled.

“What? Why not?”

“I really enjoyed the massage...” He trailed off and still didn’t reappear from his hiding place.

“Yes, I hoped you would, but...”

“No, Douglas,” Martin interrupted him and finally looked at him again, his face still red but also trying to hide an embarrassed smile. “I really, _really enjoyed_ the massage.”

“Oh,” Douglas breathed, finally getting what Martin was hinting at. He _enjoyed_ the massage a bit too much. Of course his body, or more specifically, a certain part of his body, would show just how much he liked being touched after all this time and pent up tension between them. He couldn’t hold back the smirk forming on his lips and leaned down to press a quick kiss to Martin’s forehead, before he took Martin’s relaxed hand in his and pressed it softly to his own crotch. He was in no better state.

“Do you believe me now that I am attracted to you?” he asked smugly. He felt Martin’s hand move cautiously, interested but not quite brave enough, and inhaled sharply. They had to stop. Martin’s hand on his erection was nice, very nice in fact, but if he continued he wasn’t sure if he could resist the temptation.

“Don’t worry, we can just ignore that. It will be there once you’re ready.” He raised Martin’s hand back up and quickly got under the duvet, still turned towards him, but not quiet touching. With a heavy yet content sigh, Martin rolled onto his side and pulled the duvet out from underneath him, before he settled back and closed his eyes.

“Thank you,” Martin whispered and tried to pull Douglas against his back. After a few tugs he gave in and closed the distance between his chest and Martin’s back, effectively spooning him, whilst he kept his hips carefully tilted away. He settled one arm in the space created beside his Captain’s neck and the other around his torso, surrounding him almost completely.

“So... before we go to sleep, I just need to clarify one thing. Assuming you really enjoyed that, do you want to keep doing this? With me?” Douglas asked into the hair at the back of Martin’s head, tightening his arms a little more in anticipation of the answer.

“Yes... I... I want to be with you. Completely. Let’s risk it,” Martin answered and Douglas’ lips formed into a big smile. When Martin turned his head around, he was met with a just as blinding smile on his co-pilot’s, no, partner’s face, and closed the distance between them for a loving kiss, before he whispered a soft “good night” and closed his eyes, happier and more optimistic than he had been for a long time.


	12. Chapter 12

Martin woke up to the soft glow of sunlight on his face, feeling warm and comfortable, surrounded by Douglas’ strong arms, their legs entangled. He _really_ liked waking up like that. He couldn’t believe that they woke up like that for a whole month now. It still felt like yesterday when they finally kissed for the first time, unsure, hesitatingly.  What followed was a month of domestic bliss, bad telly whilst cuddling on the sofa, lovely dinners, more snogging and yes, occasionally arguments. They were still Douglas and Martin, co-pilots, bickering like an old married couple, but now they actually _were_ a couple. Everything felt different yet nothing really changed.

Martin couldn’t have been happier. He felt like all these years of hard work were finally paying off, he was a salaried Captain at age 37, he was in a loving relationship, his family supported him more than he ever thought possible and his depression was at least most of the time under control.  He looked over his shoulder to see the other man still fast asleep, breathing hot breath against the nape of his neck, his face squished into the pillow. He looked adorable. Martin briefly wondered if Douglas, a man well into his fifties, would be appalled to be called adorable but then he decided with a small smile on his lips that he didn’t care.

Yes, he finally felt like he belonged somewhere.

Martin slowly untangled his body from Douglas’ and rolled to the edge of the mattress, sat up and stretched his stiff arms above his head. He felt like he needed to give something back, something to show Douglas how much he loved him and how grateful he was for the ongoing support and willingness to wait for their relationship to get more intimate.

With silent steps he left the bedroom and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Douglas was always so adamant about preparing their food, he loved to cook and he seemed to like it even more now that there was someone to share it with. But not today, today he would surprise the man. He tried to work as quietly as he could whilst he got the ingredients for his favourite pancake recipe out of the cupboards and the fridge and started to mix them together.

Four months. He lived here for more than four months now and it already felt like home. The attic which he occupied before never felt like that although he lived there for a lot longer.

Maybe it was Douglas. Maybe it was him who made this place feel so warm, so comfortable. Maybe it was how easy he accepted Martin in his flat, how he never once complained about the lack of privacy, even now that they were sharing a bed. None of his furniture was here, only a few scattered items - like photos, books, or DVDs - lying around in the living room and his clothes in their wardrobe, yet it felt like this was his flat as well. He wasn’t a guest anymore, this wasn’t Douglas’ flat, it was simply their home. Martin hoped that it would stay their home for a long time to come, hoped that this was lasting.

Lost in thought he didn’t hear the bedroom door open and soft footsteps approaching him. Only when Douglas’ arms closed around him from behind he returned to reality, blinking at the now well mixed batter in front of him.

“Good morning, darling.” Martin blushed, still not used to hear terms of endearment from his First Officer.

“Good morning, I’m making pancakes for breakfast,” he replied proudly and turned around in Douglas’ arms to give him a quick kiss. Douglas hummed in appreciation and wordlessly stepped back to set the table.

Martin couldn’t help but smile. This was all so terribly domestic. He started to pour the batter into a pan and concentrated on not burning the pancakes. It would be so like him to ruin the surprise last minute, and he really wanted to get something right. Just this once.

“So, any plans for today?” Douglas interrupted his inner monologue.

“Therapy this afternoon, otherwise I’m free. Why?” Martin asked back, suspiciously eying his First Officer. They had their free day, their next flight was tomorrow, what was he planning now?

“Today is the 29th January,” Douglas muttered, still not meeting his eyes.

“Yes?”

“It’s my daughter’s birthday and I thought about surprising her later today. I am not going to miss on another birthday, especially since we don’t have to fly today...” He rushed and finally looked up, a question in his eyes.

“Are you _asking me_ if I’m okay with that? Douglas... she’s your daughter... and I don’t need you to hold my hand after every therapy session, you can still do whatever you want, you can do things alone, you don’t need my permission,” Martin clarified quickly.

“I’m not asking, no, I just wanted to make sure you’re all right without me today,” Douglas smiled relieved and sat down at the table.

“Remember how we killed your ex-wife’s carp because we wanted to drop off some sweets for Hannah’s birthday party three years ago?” Martin laughed, his eyes unfocussed, remembering.

“Yes, that’s why I’m going to drive there this year and give her her present in person, not falling from an aeroplane,” Douglas replied, chuckling softly.

*

“Hello birthday girl!”

“DAD! You remembered!” Hannah shrieked, throwing herself into her father’s open arms.

“Of course I remember your birthday, sweetheart. Here, I have something for you,” Douglas smiled and handed Hannah a small envelope, which she immediately opened with big eyes. Another shriek echoed through the hallway of her mother’s house as she held two tickets for a Lady Gaga concert in her hands.

“How did you know I like her?” she asked, still mesmerized by her present.

“I do talk with your mother every now and then...” Douglas replied and felt a pang of guilt when he realised that didn’t actually know it from talking to his own daughter. He had so much to make up for. So much lost time, so many missed events.

They went to the living room after a short hello to his ex-wife and sat down, facing each other on the big sofa. Hannah told him all about her school, her friends, her first big crush (and Douglas had to admit his surprise, her first day at school still felt like yesterday, and yes, she was far too young for boys), her hobbies, the bands and shows she liked, quite possibly about everything which came to her mind. And he listened. He actually tried to react, to show her how much he cared, how much he loved her. They both relaxed, realising how despite everything they were still father and daughter, family.

After what felt like ten days of Hannah explaining him all about this new “super cool” girl band and how they were not at all like some other “super lame” girl band (how many girl bands actually were there in Britain? A gazillion? He lost count halfway through), Hannah fell silent and eyed her father with a raised eyebrow.

“But how have you been, dad?”

“Great, terrific, I am really happy,” Douglas smiled, thinking about Martin, who was now probably home from therapy, waiting for him in their flat. Maybe he was lying curled up on the sofa, enjoying some show on the telly, maybe he was thinking of him, maybe...

“Yeees?” Hannah asked, even more suspicious than before. Douglas sighed. He really wanted to tell Hannah about his new relationship, but he wasn’t sure how she would take it. He only ever dated women and he didn’t want to confuse or estrange her. He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye.

 “All right, Hannah, there’s something I have to tell you,” he began hesitatingly.

“Yeah? Did you finally become the Captain?” Hannah smirked with a typical Richardson expression.

“No, nothing like that. I am in a new relationship,” he confessed, still unsure.

“Really? Do I know her?” Hannah shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter now that her interest had been piqued.

“Actually, it’s a man.” Douglas held his breath. Now it was out. He was torn, on the one hand he felt relieved to finally tell someone about the man he loved, and on the other hand he was afraid of how his daughter would react. But he had to tell her, she should be the first to know.

“Oh, so you’re gay now?” she asked, her tone completely neutral.

“No I’m...”

“But you’re with a man?”

“Yes I’m...”

“Wow, that’s kind of strange... Anyways, do I know him?” Douglas stared disbelievingly at Hannah. That was it? The reaction he feared so much?

“Wha... You’re all right with that?”

“Dad, your last wife only liked you because of the stripes on your uniform; I think he can’t be worse than that. And I’m not a child anymore. I’m a teenager. I am, like, super tolerant and open-minded,” she smiled proudly. “And you know, I once read on the internet that Lady Gaga is bisexual and I didn’t understand what that meant but mum explained everything and I totally get it now.  People can love men or women or both or no one or whatever they want, so I guess you’re a bit like Lady Gaga and that is really _really_ cool.”

 “ _O-kay_... But Helena really wasn’t that bad, you know,” Douglas replied, still gobsmacked. He really had to thank his ex-wife for raising their daughter to become such a respectful human being.

“Whatever. But you didn’t answer my question: Do I know him? Is he nice? What’s his name? Is he good looking?” Hannah was sitting on the edge of her seat now, clearly excited.

“Well, it’s actually Martin...”

“As in, your Captain Martin? The little ginger guy you hate?” she interrupted her father with a shocked expression on her face.

“I don’t hate Martin and he’s not little,” Douglas countered defensively.

“You told me he’s an incompetent, humourless, little man with no self respect who forced you to call him Sir although he’s 20 years younger... Wait... Is he,” she leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially “your toyboy?”

“Hannah, for god’s sake, where do you get such words?!” Douglas rubbed his face in exasperation.

“From the internet,” his daughter replied with an innocent smirk.

“Jolly good,” he deadpanned, still wondering how he missed his little girl growing up so fast.

“But seriously, how did that happen?!”

“I don’t know...” Douglas admitted. “When you work with someone for more than five years as closely as we did, you realise that there is sometimes more to a person than you see at first. And it just happened... We became friends, he almost left MJN Air, he had a hard time afterwards and I helped him through it by offering him the spare room in my flat. A month ago we finally decided that we wanted to try this and now we’re together and it’s really lovely.”

“If you like him, I like him, too,” Hannah decided and hugged her father to underline her statement.

“Thank you sweetheart,” Douglas breathed and hugged back, thankful for the support from the most important person in his life.

*

“How did it go?” Martin asked once Douglas entered their flat and fell down heavily on the sofa beside him.

“Great! I still can’t believe how quickly she grew up, she’s even interested in boys now. Gosh, it feels like yesterday when I held her in my arms for the first time and tomorrow she might get married or something. She sends her love, by the way,” Douglas sighed and leaned in for a kiss, which Martin only happily returned, before the words finally sunk in.

“Wait... Why did you talk about me?” he queried once they parted.

“I told her that we’re in a relationship,” Douglas replied completely calm with a small smile on his face. Martin fidgeted nervously, looking down on his hands in his lap. He hadn’t even thought about telling people officially that they were together now. Not because he was ashamed of it, no, most of the time he even wondered how someone as great as Douglas fell in love with him and he was quite proud of it, but because the change happened so gradually and naturally that he just assumed that everyone knew.

“And she...?” he asked finally, not daring to end his sentence. If Hannah wouldn’t support them, Douglas would probably end this. He knew how important she was to Douglas, how her opinion mattered more than anything.

“She is happy for us, don’t worry.” Martin looked up from his hands and read the sincerity in his partner’s eyes. A small smile formed on his lips and he relaxed back into the sofa, leaning against Douglas’ shoulder.

“Do we want to tell Carolyn and Arthur?” he blurted suddenly, eager to tell everyone now, to show everyone in the world how he, Captain Martin Crieff, managed to get into a relationship with the best man he knew.

“I have a better idea, just follow my lead tomorrow,” Douglas laughed and pulled Martin closer to his chest, pressing his nose into the other man’s hair and closing his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thank you all so much for leaving kudos, I am over the moon :)  
> I should probably say that I changed the rating to explicit for this chapter, so if that's not your cup of tea, you might want to stop reading after the first *. I am actually really nervous about this chapter because it's the first time I wrote smut in english so please tell me if you liked it and if I made any mistakes. There will be more smut next chapter and I really want to improve. Thank you!

Douglas entered the portacabin a day later with a smirk on his face, Martin following behind, looking somewhat confused but determined to tell Carolyn and Arthur about the change in their relationship. Douglas couldn’t help but share this sentiment; they were like family after all. He quickly sat down on the sofa, taking in his surroundings. Carolyn was busy with someone on the phone, booking a new flight apparently, and Arthur was playing a game on his phone, which sounded a lot like Flappy Bird, complaining every few seconds about “this stupid game, you have birds, why aren’t you brilliant?”. Perfect. They were both distracted, which worked nicely for his plan.

He waved Martin, who just shed his coat over the back of his chair, over to the sofa and took his hand in his after he sat down beside him.

“Douglas...?” Martin asked with a frown.

“Shhh... Just play along,” he whispered and gave his Captain an affectionate smile, which caused him to relax back into the sofa.

Douglas saw out of the corner of his eye how Carolyn ended the call and scribbled something into her calendar and thought _Now or Never_. He slowly leaned in until his lips met Martin’s in a soft and chaste kiss, nothing too inappropriate, but still giving them away.

“Did you two just... _kiss_?!” Arthur exclaimed from across the portacabin.

“It seems we did,” Douglas replied smoothly, still in Martin’s personal space.

“Why would you do that?” Arthur asked, his confusion evident.

“Arthur, you certainly know why people kiss,” Carolyn interjected, shooting Douglas an approving smile from behind her desk.

“Well, yes mum, but Douglas and Martin aren’t in love so it’s not... hang on a minute...” Arthur muttered, clearly trying to figure it out. “Are you... together?”

“We are,” Martin answered, smiling shyly.

“Brilliant! Since when? All the time? Why did I miss that? But no, wait, you were with that princess woman, and you were married. Was that a lie? Why did you lie to me all this time? I am happy for you, you could have told me, I don’t care, I mean, I do care about you, but I don’t care if you’re a couple. Remember how we once flew that man from London to New York for his aunt’s birthday party? He was with a man and I was perfectly nice to him, he was brilliant, he knew how to play Guess Who, beat me every time, but he was nice and I was nice and you two are nice so why...”

“All right, Arthur,” Carolyn interrupted, rolling her eyes.

“I should probably clarify that this is a fairly new development, only a month, so no, Arthur, we weren’t lying to you,” Douglas explained with a fond expression.

“Wow, I am so happy for you!”

“Thank you, Arthur...” Martin blushed. “But seriously, we’re very grateful for your support. We wanted you to know as our friends.”

Douglas leaned in and pressed another kiss to Martin’s cheek, smiling softly into the other man’s skin. This is exactly what he hoped for. No awkward confession, Martin stumbling over his own words, just a simple action to show how much he cared for his Captain. He knew that Carolyn was already aware of his feelings and that she approved, and that Arthur was one of the most generous and supportive people on this planet, so he didn’t worry too much about their reactions. Still, to actually see their understanding was nice. Martin needed it, he needed to let his worries go, to concentrate on the love he received by the people close to him. 

“Well at least I only have to pay for one room for my pilots at overnight stays now,” Carolyn deadpanned and went back to her work as if nothing happened. 

*

Martin stared at the ceiling of the hotel room in Cairo only a few hours after their outing, the duvet of their double bed pulled up under his chin, creating a barrier between his half dressed body and the outside world. He heard the soft sounds of Douglas showering in the en-suite bathroom, his low voice singing along to some song he didn’t recognise, and couldn’t help imagining what his partner would look like in that moment. Naked, wet, his eyes closed, his lips moving around random words, his hands roaming over his own skin, touching what he wanted to feel for such a long time now.

He clenched his fists into the duvet and tried to disappear a little more under his makeshift armour. He had fantasised a lot about this evening. Hell, he planned it, he went through every scenario he could think of and he was terrified. But he also really wanted to try it. They were together for a month now, and Douglas was still waiting patiently for their relationship to become intimate.

Martin didn’t want to wait anymore. He didn’t want to think about the what-ifs, he didn’t want to think about his body and how unhappy he still sometimes was with it, he just wanted to feel, just for one night. And if he couldn’t trust Douglas, who could he trust? There was only Douglas for him.

He heard the sound of the shower being turned off and his pulse quickened. He had made his decision. Now he only had to convince Douglas and actually go through with it. His fingers cramped, still holding the duvet, and he tried to deliberately relax himself. His therapist had recommended some techniques, some breathing patterns, to fight of the anxiety inside of him. He slowly breathed in, 1,2,3,4,5, and then breathed out, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7. He repeated this till he felt his body sinking into the mattress, his mind blank for a short moment.

The door opened and Douglas appeared in the doorway, only wearing his pants. They slept like that, nothing to be worried about, Martin told himself. Nothing new, nothing unexpected.

“What’s wrong?” Douglas asked and Martin tried to smile casually, but his face twisted into a grimace.

“Could you please just come to bed?” he countered, avoiding the question.

Douglas complied, but his eyes remained suspicious. He lifted the duvet and slipped underneath, his body automatically searching the heat radiating from Martin. Well, Martin thought, so far, so good. Still nothing new. Nothing to be afraid of. He rolled on his side, bringing his body closer to Douglas’, wrapping his arms around the other man and searching for his lips. He needed the reassurance more than anything now, Douglas steady heartbeat beating against his chest, his strong hands to ground him. He experimentally shifted his hips, pressing his crotch against Douglas thigh, signalling his desire. But instead of taking advantage, Douglas pulled back and searched Martin’s face, keeping their hips carefully separated.

“Martin...?” he asked breathlessly yet stern.

“Please, just let us try,” Martin replied, not meeting the other man’s eyes.

“Here? Now?”

“If I fail, I don’t want to be reminded of it every time I see our bed at home,” he confessed, the tips of his ears turning pink, his cheeks heating up. He knew that this was ridiculous, but he needed to keep his distance, just in case.

“Are you... Is there anything off limits? Anything you wouldn’t feel comfortable with? Any part I shouldn’t touch?” Douglas asked, still unsure but willing to give it a try.

“No... I’m not... I mean... I don’t really know. I guess we’ll have to figure that out together. But... you usually know what I like, so just do whatever feels right. I trust you, you should trust yourself, too,” Martin smiled shyly.

“All right, but promise me to say something as soon as you want to stop, or if there’s anything you don’t like.”

“Promise,” he whispered and brought his hips back into contact with the other man’s leg.

Their lips met again in a familiar manner, chaste at first but Martin soon deepened it, wanting to go through with his plan as fast and painless as possible. Douglas complied at first, trailing kisses down from Martin’s lips to his neck, biting and licking at the vulnerable skin of his pulse point, but soon seemed to realise what was happening and slowed down a bit, not in rejection, but to show Martin that he should just follow his lead.

Martin was only happy to do just that, he had embarrassingly little experience with this, especially when it came to sex with a man, and he didn’t want to do something wrong. He felt how Douglas’ arms settled back around him, one hand stroking slowly up and down his back, the other just lightly resting on his left hipbone. What should he do with his hands? Should he do the same? Why didn’t ever think about that while they were snogging in bed normally? Were his hands always this sweaty? His heart began to beat wildly in his chest, his pulse quickening, his breath coming in short pants between their kisses.

“Are you still all right?” Douglas asked carefully, watching him with a concerned expression. Martin nodded, not really able to talk now, especially not something which would make much sense to someone outside of his head. Douglas eyed him even more suspiciously for a moment before he rolled Martin on his back and lifted his hands to rest them beside his head.

Martin still wore his pyjama pants, yet he never before felt this naked. His whole upper body was exposed to Douglas, the speckles on his skin, the still prominent rips, the trail of hair leading down into his pants. He felt absurd. They were far past this point already, kissing in their pants, hands roaming. They’ve done it before. Yet he couldn’t silence the voice in his head, telling him that this was all too much, too soon, too fast. He wondered if Douglas would be able to stop if he told him to, if his self control was that strong, or if he would just continue, only his own release in mind.

Martin had to stop himself. Those doubts were useless. Douglas would never do anything to harm him, he would never force him to do anything, and nothing ever happened without his explicit consent. He tried to relax into the feeling of Douglas fingers on his skin, stroking his belly in a soothing manner, and after a few moments managed to swallow his fear.

With his eyes shut he didn’t see Douglas leaning in and only realised what was happening as Douglas’ lips connected with his chest, kissing carefully down his sternum, his tongue pressing hotly against his scattered chest hair. A soft sound escaped his lips, communicating how much he enjoyed Douglas’ ministrations. Douglas, now braver, trailed off to the side till his lips met Martin’s nipple, gently closing his lips around it. At the first contact of Douglas tongue flicking at his tip, Martin felt his blood rushing downwards, pooling deep inside his belly. He arched his back, searching for more contact, which caused Douglas to chuckle, the vibration of it running through Martin’s body.

He brought one hand to Douglas’ hair, not gripping, but waving his fingers lovingly through the thick strands. He carefully cupped the nape of his neck, stroking down, feeling the muscles in Douglas’ back rippling under his fingers. Another soft moan escaped his mouth, unprepared for the onslaught of want surging through him at the feeling of another person’s body so close to his.

He felt strong hands stroking down his sides, causing him to squirm under the other man, until they settled above his hipbones, caressing the pale skin. Douglas’ mouth seemed to wander freely now, kissing every part of Martin’s upper body, down his arms, until he pulled back a bit, playing with the waistband of Martin’s pyjama pants, intention clear.

Martin finally opened his eyes and saw the longing in Douglas’ face, his pupils blown wide, his mouth kiss swollen. He also noticed how his own desire was visible, his pants tented by his obvious arousal.

 “Could you... go first?” he muttered quietly, not knowing why the thought of being completely bare suddenly seemed so terrifying.

“Sure...” Douglas flashed him a smile.

With one quick movement he rolled his pants down his sturdy legs, his erection springing free from its tight confinement, and kicked them blindly off the bed. Martin couldn’t help but look, wanting to reach towards it, but he didn’t dare to do so just yet. Douglas smiled again, reassuringly, and leaned back down, his erection bumping against Martin’s leg.

Douglas settled his hands back on his hips, trailing a finger inside of Martin’s waistband, before he experimentally dipped deeper, feeling the coarseness of his hair there. Martin inhaled sharply, but decided that yes, he could do this, he could allow Douglas to go further, he actually wanted Douglas to go further. He lifted his head from the pillow, opened his eyes and looked straight at the other man, a small smile forming on his lips. When he caught Douglas’ eyes, he nodded once, communicating his consent.

“You are so brave,” whispered Douglas, as his hands closed around his waistband and slowly began to pull them down his legs, till Martin was finally completely naked in front of him. Martin realised how Douglas’ eyes never left his, how he gave him the time to come to terms with this new aspect of their relationship, before he would look down. Martin had never felt more grateful for Douglas’ self control.

“I... I don’t feel brave. To be honest, I am really, _really_ nervous,” Martin chuckled and held his slightly trembling hands up to show just how much this affected him. “But I trust you, and... and I want to do this, so please... continue.”

Douglas smiled at him, his eyes full of unspoken emotion, and finally looked down to the now exposed part of Martin. A part he had never seen before and Martin held his breath, still slightly worried that Douglas could decide that he didn’t want this after all, that he would stop, that he didn’t like what he saw.

“God, Martin,” he whispered, his voice husky. He unconsciously licked his lips once, before he looked back up, sensing Martin’s hesitance. Without another word he shuffled back up the bed until his chest was flush against his own. He tentatively leaned down for a kiss, closing the remaining space between their bodies.

Martin gasped as he felt the first contact of his erection against the hair on Douglas’ abdomen and the hard outline of his arousal. It was too much, but in a very good way, too much to think, too much to worry. For a few moments he just felt, marvelled at how right this was, how perfectly they fit together. Douglas deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting again and again, only interrupted by their need of air.

When they finally parted, Martin couldn’t hold back a sound coming from the back of his throat, a small groan to tell Douglas how much he still enjoyed this. Douglas’ eyes were hooded, his lips red and still a little wet from their kiss and Martin felt every doubt dissipating. He wanted to be the one to make Douglas look like that, dishevelled, wanting.

“Touch me,” he pleaded, not caring at all if he sounded desperate. “We’ve waited so long, I can’t wait anymore, please, I need you, now.”

Douglas’ pupils dilated even more at the sound of his Captain’s voice, and he finally lifted his pelvis a few centimetres, creating enough space to trail his hand down Martin’s chest, his stomach, until he finally reached his cock, wrapping his hand around both of them. Even if Martin wanted to stay quiet, he couldn’t do it. A loud groan escaped his lips, only slightly muffled by Douglas’ mouth, and his eyes closed on their own account.

Douglas’ hand felt perfectly steady still wrapped around them, not one sign of uncertainty. Martin experimentally shifted his hips, creating some much needed friction between them. He heard Douglas groan above him, but he seemed to get the clue and slowly started to move his hand up and down, pressing, pulling. Every now and then his thumb would circle his glans, just a quick movement over his crown, spreading his pre-cum over both of them, slicking them.

Martin’s eyes rolled back to the back of his head, his eyelashes fluttering, as Douglas continued to pump them together. He would have never thought that the press of another man’s erection against his could feel this good, could leave him speechless. His hands roamed over Douglas’ back and chest, stroking every part of skin he could reach from his position, before he settled one on the arm holding Douglas’ above him, the muscles taut and rippling under his touch. He tried to thrust in time with his partner’s movement, tried to create even more friction, and as he heard Douglas’ breathing getting heavier above him, he knew that he succeeded.

“Martin, you have no idea what you do to me,” Douglas breathed against his lips, burning the words into his skin. His breath was hot, so unbelievably hot, and Martin felt goose bumps forming along his arms and his back in response.

“You are beautiful like that. I can’t believe that you’re mine,” he continued, kissing down Martin’s throat to the juncture of his neck, where he softly touched his tongue to the pale skin.

Martin felt another wave of arousal surge through him at the sound of Douglas’ breathless voice. That voice. How often had he fantasized about this voice in his attic, back then, alone. How often had he wished for his Co-Pilot to say something like that to him, only him, no one else. And now it was real.

“Yes,” Martin moaned, bucking his hips so forceful that his hips lifted from the mattress, always searching for more contact. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tightening, how his legs began to shake, the slow burn of hormones and adrenaline inside him taking over. He couldn’t last much longer, not with Douglas’ hands moving so skilful, with his voice whispering into his neck.

“Oh... I am close,” Martin whispered frantically. He didn’t want to come just yet, didn’t want to lose the feeling of Douglas against him.

“Do it,” Douglas commanded. “Just let it go. I’ve got you.”

And just like that, Martin couldn’t hold back anymore. His orgasm washed over him, every muscle in his body stiffening as he came with a shout of Douglas’ name. He felt the wetness between them growing, still writhing underneath the other man.

“Gorgeous,” Douglas whispered, pulling back to look at Martin’s face. He quickly rolled off him, still pressed together side by side, and reached back down to his own still hard cock with his cum-coated hand. Martin wanted to offer some help, he really did, but his mouth wasn’t able to form any words and his muscles wouldn’t move. But Douglas didn’t seem disappointed by the lack of reciprocity, and it only took a few more almost forceful tugs before he was coming too, his head thrown back, mouth open, groaning loudly.

Martin decided that he wanted to see this again, that he wanted to do this for Douglas. He carefully trailed one finger through the quickly cooling mess on Douglas’ stomach, down, until his hand reached the other man’s softening cock, and touched his finger to it, just once.

“Sorry, got a bit eager there at the end, you can do it next time, if you want...” Douglas panted, still half entangled with Martin.

“Don’t apologise,” Martin chuckled softly. “And yes, I would like to do that, next time.”

“Next time...” Douglas smiled and opened his eyes. “I really like the sound of that.”

“I don’t know why I was so afraid,” Martin confessed, feeling stupid for doubting Douglas, no matter how briefly. He quickly rolled away to retrieve his pants from the floor, wiping first himself clean, then Douglas with much more care. He gently lay back down, resting his head on Douglas’ broad chest and entwining their legs.

“It’s okay to be afraid every now and then, Martin.”

He smiled, stroking his hand over Douglas’ chest, until he could feel the other man’s heartbeat through his ribcage and settled his hand there, protecting Douglas’ most precious possession. He took a deep breath, now finally courageous enough to say what he wanted to say for so long.

“I... I love you, Douglas.”

“I love you too, Captain Crieff,” Douglas replied smirking, which earned him a smack on his arm, before Martin settled back down, smiling.

“I am shattered,” he yawned and closed his eyes. The last things he perceived before he fell asleep were the duvet being pulled over his body, a soft kiss into his hair, warm arms wrapping around him and a whispered:

“Sleep, Martin, I’ll still be there when you wake up.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to contact me, you can find me [here](http://forgodssakejohn.tumblr.com)


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